Castaways
by Isabelle
Summary: COMPLETE. Before they kissed, before the night at Victrola, they were going to meet Nate at St. Croix. That is, before their plane crashed, and they were left the only two survivors on an island with no other inhabitants. Chuck/Blair, of course.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1** of _Castaways_

Author: Isabelle

Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl, its characters, or anything.

Summary: Before they kissed, before the night at Victrola, they were going to meet Nate at St. Croix. That is, before their plane crashed, and they were left the only two survivors on an island with no other inhabitants. Chuck/Blair, of course.

Rating: Mostly PG-13, maybe R at one point

A/N – I know, I can't help myself with these crazy plots. Always thanking my BETA, Tati, because she totally deserves a medal.

--

"_We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone."  
__Orson Welles_

She glared at the message on her phone. She sighed dramatically, as if part of a performance.

Her companion shifted, studying her, and she could feel the smirk on his face. The smirk she usually liked wiping off.

"Where's fair Nathaniel?" He leered.

Ugh. She disliked him at times like these. Oftentimes, she asked herself why she put up for him and for so long. Perhaps it was out of habit. I mean, she had known him since he used to cry and hold onto his nanny's skirts.

She remembered the first time she saw him. Pink-faced and sobbing. His nanny had attempted to pry him off her skirts, but Charles held on tight, refusing to go to school. She had stared him down, very annoyed at the horrible noise he was making.

"Stop crying!" Six year-old Blair had snapped at him. He had instantly stopped. "You look silly."

He had glared at her. "We-well, at least I don't have a bow on my head!"

"My bow is pretty, Stupid," she had countered just as easily.

He had followed her then – that's how he had met Nathaniel. Now, years later, Blair was still snapping at Chuck, only he had learned to defend himself and even better than she did. Which was probably why she kept him around; she could be the bitch she enjoyed being around him.

"He's meeting us there," she said stiffly.

He chuckled.

"What?" She asked, annoyed and rolling her eyes.

"I don't know, Waldorf – if I had a girl with legs like yours waiting on a plane for me, I would do everything possible to get to her. Heiresses couldn't keep me away." He stretched out on his seat.

She glared at him and his outfit. He looked like someone had slipped him out of the Copacabana with his white linen suit and white Panama hat. The only color in his outfit was his annoyingly bright orange ascot. Leave it to Chuck to dress for the occasion. She looked down at herself. Ok. So she had dressed for the occasion herself. Her floral Alexander McQueen dress fit her curves perfectly, as did her Channel straw hat and matching purse. Nate would be the only one wearing Aeropostale.

"Yeah, right – I'm sure you're one to leave a girl, anywhere, at any time," she countered, unable to think of a better reply.

"And I have," he nodded, never defending his degrading behavior. Always proud of his womanizing ways and never apologizing to anyone – not even her, his oldest friend.

"I suppose you should go on ahead. I'll wait for him," she said, ignoring his lascivious comment.

"And fly commercial?" He asked, studying his hat with a smirk firmly placed on his Roman face.

She hated that he knew her so well. He knew she was as shallow as he was and enjoyed the luxury of the Bass private plane. She huffed, looking around the plane. She always did love riding on the plane. And Chuck knew it – even when they were little, she proclaimed she was riding with Chuck because of the plane.

"Fine," she snapped finally. "But I feel really bad about this."

"Sure you do, Waldorf," he sneered, placing the hat over his head and smirking at the flight attendant as she brought him his customary scotch.

She watched Chuck as he exchanged five words with the girl and the slut was practically bearing his babies. She rolled her eyes and took out her I-pod, intent on getting through her next audio book, undisturbed by Chuck and his promiscuous actions. In three hours, she would be in sunny St. Croix, housed in the best room money could buy, provided by the he-slut himself. She would be sipping mojitos as she worked on her perfect tan. While Chuck chased the natives and Nate braved commercial flights to be with her.

"Waldorf!" She was snapped out of her reverie and placed Dostoevsky on pause. She slowly turned to look at him.

"What?" She demanded.

Chuck pointed to the stewardess; the young blonde was waiting to ask her what she wanted.

"Club soda, wedge of lime," she said and continued her audio, then stopped when she noticed him watching her.

"What?" She snapped, pausing the Russian once more.

"What are you listening to?" He asked.

"Chuck," she began patiently. "I did not agree to come on this flight with you in order to be your entertainment. I did it to relax and get away from the mess my life is at the moment."

He raised his brow, and she knew she had given him ammunition. She cursed internally.

"Any of this mess caused by our dear Nathaniel?" He asked, playing with his hat while he eyed the blond waitress and her short skirt.

Her answer was a Waldorf glare. She plugged her I-pod back in as he chuckled, amused by her reaction. She rolled her eyes as he followed the blonde to the back to do God-knows-what in God-knows-where.

She closed her eyes, and the feel of the plane combined with the droning words lulled her to sleep. She dimly felt someone place a blanket over her.

--

He came back after he made the blonde scream four times and four times only. He left her nearly passed out and with a happy smile on her face. He was Chuck Bass, after all.

"Make sure you get her the club soda," he said calmly as he zipped up his pants. The girl did a gurgling noise in the back of her throat and nodded, eyes crossed.

He chuckled and calmly washed his hands, then walked out.

There was slight turbulence as he walked back to Blair so he held onto some of the seats. It was a rarity that he was able to get the plane all to himself and his friends. For the most part, he had to share it with either the marketing team or his father's investors. Once in a while they would get a celebrity and he would always volunteer as an escort, especially for models and young actresses. He smiled, remembering the flight to L.A. a few months ago. Just him, the butler, and Drew Barrymore. What a night.

So now the plane was just his and Blair's – not that he could do much with Blair. He smiled slightly when he found her asleep. She had her earplugs on and was completely gone to the world.

Leave it to Blair to bring recommended reading material on a flight to St. Croix. He shook his head and took a seat across from her, slurping down the rest of his scotch. He shifted, looked over some magazines, then got bored and threw them to the side.

He looked out the window and sighed, annoyed and bored. If Nathaniel were here, they could talk about girls. He glared at his sleeping companion. Did she really have to fall asleep? Honestly! The least she could do was keep him company.

He had allowed her to come along, after all. It was supposed to be a boys-only getaway. Then she had to turn all needy and make Nathaniel feel bad, and then he had asked Chuck if she could come and Chuck had caved.

Honestly, he didn't know why Nathaniel put up with it. He personally enjoyed the freedom. Screw who you wanted, no strings attached.

He studied the sleeping girl. No matter how lovely her lips were, it was not worth it.

He shook his head, smiling. Nope, not worth it.

She shifted, and her dress rode higher. He paused.

She _was_ a virgin.

The thought made his mouth water.

No. No, no. This was Blair he was thinking of this way. She was like a _sister_ to him. No, not a sister… Well, maybe a sister. He'd never had a sister. Did one have sporadic sexual fantasies about sisters?

He tilted his head as she shivered in her seat, mumbling softly in her sleep.

He sighed, spotting a cashmere throw folded neatly inside her straw 'purse'. She called it a 'purse'. He would call it luggage. He leaned forward and took out the gray blanket and threw it over her shivering body. She sighed contently in her sleep.

A sister, he reminded himself.

He watched her as she slept, and after a while her peaceful face lulled him to sleep.

--

The first bump jolted her out of her sleep. Her eyes were wide and confused. Another one.

Her stomach flipped. She sat up, looking around. No one was around except a peacefully sleeping Chuck. She looked down, surprised at seeing her throw over her body. Did she grab it in her sleep? She shook her head but all thoughts of throws went out her mind as the plane jumped. Her stomach went along with it. She looked outside and saw white clouds. The wind was moving fast around them. She gulped and looked at Chuck. He was snoring.

Figures.

She unbuckled her seat belt and, grabbing onto all she could, she made her way to the front. A huge jolt made her fall flat on her ass. She let out a yelp.

Scrambling up, she made it to the pilot door.

After her frantic knock, one of the pilots let her in.

"What's going on?" She demanded.

"Just a small storm and some turbulence. Nothing to be worried about, Miss Waldorf." Another jolt almost left her on top of the man's lap.

"Small storm?" She snapped.

She listened as they talked back and forth to each other and the local tower.

"Where are we?" She demanded.

"Over the Caribbean," one of them explained. "We're going to gain altitude in order to avoid the storm."

This did not sit well with her. She made her way to the back once more intent on waking Chuck and demanding he knock some sense into the 'pilots'.

She spied the stewardess looking nervous as she strapped herself in.

"Please take your seats and put your seat belts on, we're going through a rough patch."

_A rough patch_, she sneered. Honestly! What happened to professionalism these days? She shakily took a seat next to Chuck and, once she was strapped in with sweaty hands, she shoved him awake.

"What the fuck?" He yelped.

"Wake up!" She demanded, and he hissed when the plane jolted stronger than it ever had. Her nails had dug into his forearm.

"Catwoman, ease up!" He brought his offended arm to his chest, glaring at her.

"Speak to your staff! They're incompetent-" Another jolt left her breathless. "And are surely going to kill us!"

"Jesus, Waldorf! It's a little-" he paused, holding onto the arm rests as another wave made their asses leave the leather seats. "… turbulence," he finished lamely.

She looked pale and nauseous.

He hooked on his seat belt, trying to remain calm, as she closed her eyes and began counting to fifty as the plane shook and danced in the sky, its passengers holding on for dear life.

She closed her eyes and let out a breath.

"You can't be afraid of flying," he teased her, ignoring the small beads of sweat forming on his own brow.

The plane made another forceful jolt and Blair yelped, grasping her arm rests.

"I'm not!" She spat. "_This_ is not normal!"

"It is!" He cried back, and then let out his own yelp when they momentarily lost altitude and were lifted off their seats.

"Oh, my God, Chuck, oh my God!" Blair babbled.

"It's fine," he said reassuringly, eyes wide. He used the intercom by his seat to call the pilots. "What the fuck is going on there?"

The voice crackled. "I apologize, Mr. Bass – we are attempting to go over the storm. No worries, we will be in the clear momentarily."

Chuck turned to Blair with a smirk. "See?"

His smirk, however, was quickly wiped off when they lost altitude and didn't seem to be gaining.

Blair reached out, grasping his arm, and he unconsciously grasped back.

"It's ok, it's ok, it's ok," she kept repeating. Chuck was doing his own chant in his head. Only his went more like 'fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck'.

"We're not going up!" She finally yelled. The cabin lost pressure and they both jumped back when the breathing masks popped down. Blair screamed.

"Fucking shit!" Chuck cried, staring at the breathing masks.

Blair was outright crying.

He reached out with shaky hands and placed the mask over his head, he began to breathe through it. He turned to Blair and tried to help her into hers, but she was shaking so bad he couldn't.

"Stop!" He snapped.

"I don't want to die, Chuck. I don't want to die!" She said as he placed the breathing mask over her face.

He didn't say anything, just stared straight ahead as the plane continued to shake violently. He ducked when her 'purse' flew in the air, almost smacking him in the head.

They continued descending and before he knew it, they crashed into the water. He gasped as he saw the stewardess he'd just fucked fly across the plane and land with a sickening thud on the other side of it as Blair screamed and cried.

His heart was thumping and he could hardly breathe. He looked outside and saw they had landed in the water. The wind was still howling outside and the plane was shifting from side to side. He'd seen enough movies to know they couldn't last long – the water pressure would make the windows cave in. The plane was still above water, but quickly sinking. They most likely had a leak somewhere.

"C'mon!" He said to Blair. He unhooked himself out of the seat and threw off the breathing mask.

She stared at him, still shaking. They had crashed. She had been in a plane crash. She was still alive. She couldn't believe it.

She felt him unhook her belt, yank her mask off, and pull her up.

"We have to get out of here," he said, his voice was shaky, even shakier than his hands.

The plane was tilted sideways and continued to move, so they struggled to make it to the emergency closet.

Blair grasped onto Chuck when she saw the dead stewardess, her neck was at an odd angle and she was still in her seat. The entire seat had come off the hooks.

"Keep going," he said, opening the door after a few pulls. He sighed, took out two life vests and handed her one. She put it over her head, fastening the sides along with him.

"If we open the door, won't the water enter?" She asked, looking at the emergency door in fear. The plane made a frightening noise and she gulped, holding onto the wall.

"I don't think we'll have to open doors. We don't have much time," he said, finishing his own life vest.

She followed him as he made it through the debris to the pilot spot. A few times they almost fell into one another as more jerking noises invaded the plane and the winds howled outside.

When he opened the door, she cried out because both pilots she had spoken to a minute ago were dead. The glass was broken and there was blood everywhere. Rain was pelting inside of the cabin and the wind made papers and items shift. They were mere inches away from the water as the waves crashed angrily against the glass.

"We have to call for help – let someone know our coordinates," he said automatically.

"What do you know of coordinates?" She snapped, anxiously looking as the water began to rapidly enter the small cabin.

Chuck grabbed the radio.

"Hello! Someone out there?" He cried into the microphone, trying to have his voice heard over the howling wind. "My name is Chuck Bass, aboard the Bass Enterprises private plane. We have crashed into the water. I am alive, and so is Blair Waldorf. We need help. Anyone out there?"

The water was coming in quicker and quicker. "Chuck," she said, pointing to the water.

The line was dead.

"If anyone is out there, we are survivors. Please – help!" He put the phone down and turned to grab the first aid box next to the pilots.

"My things!" She said.

"Jesus, Waldorf – I'll buy you new things!" He snapped.

"But – but-" She stumbled as he pulled her arm.

They both screamed when a crashing noise was heard in the back of the plane.

"It's sinking!" He yelled, pulling her towards the opening in the window, shielding his face against the wind.

"No!" She cried, pulling back, staring at the glass shards and the angry waters.

"Blair, c'mon!" He pulled her. The plane shifted as the tail began to sink.

"Oh, God," she whimpered, holding on to him. He helped her out of the broken window as they faced the open ocean. The waves lashed out at them and she was soaked before they even jumped off.

"Ok, just swim. And don't let go of my hand, ok?" He said, his voice wavering slightly, enough to make her whimper.

They looked at each other for a moment before he leapt off and took her with him. They landed in the water with a huge splash. She gasped, holding onto him as the cool water hit her. She tried to keep her head above the water, her life vest making her float as wave after wave tried to drown them.

"Swim!" He instructed. She nodded, spitting out water as she followed his lead. She turned back to look at the plane and gasped as it continued sinking behind them.

"Swim faster, Blair!" He cried, and she realized the current was pulling them in. She cried out and began to put all her energies into swimming until her arms felt like they would fall off.

"I'm tired!" She cried back to him, spitting out more water as the sea trashed them around.

"Don't stop, dammit – Blair!" He said, but she could see he was also exhausted.

She didn't know how long they swam but soon enough the plane had sunk.

She held onto him as the sea trashed around them.

"Don't fall asleep," he told her and she nodded, shivering.

They continued just bobbing in the storm, holding onto each other for a few hours until their limbs were shaky and they were ready to give into the sea. It was night by the time the winds finally calmed down.

They floated next to the other in silence, still too shocked to say anything.

It was eerily quiet, out there in the middle of the ocean. A chill ran down her spine. They bobbled together, neither saying a word but holding onto each other nonetheless.

"How long do you think it'll take them to find us?" She asked quietly.

"A couple of hours – at the most," he said after a moment.

They bobbled until Chuck became restless.

"What?" She asked.

"I have to pee," he confessed.

She closed her eyes and sighed.

"Well, swim over there!" She pointed away from her. He let go of her hand and she panicked a bit because now she was by herself.

"Hurry up!" She cried, looking at his retreating back.

"Well, I can't go with you looking!" he snapped.

"Are you serious?" She cried.

He sighed, flapping his arms. She shook her head and looking at him disbelievingly.

"You can't pee because I'm looking at you?" She growled.

He turned. "Would you?"

Her face brightened and she tucked a wet strand of wet hair behind her ear.

"No," she admitted.

"Then turn!" He snapped. She pouted, but slowly turned, her heart thumping. If she wasn't looking at him, she would be alone.

"Are you done?" She asked, staring out into the dark ocean. She was completely petrified. Who knew what was lurking in the water?

Then something happened. Something that made her scream bloody murder.

_Something_ slithered around her leg.

"Chuck!" She cried. "Oh, my God!" She began swimming towards him.

"I'm not done!" He cried as she attacked him, trying to climb on top of him.

"Oh, my God, there's something in the water!" She was crying.

"It's the fucking ocean!" He growled as he tried to untangle her from him.

"No, no!" She cried. "I can't do this!"

"It was probably seaweed!" He snapped.

"No, it was moving, Chuck – it was going to bite me!" She cried, holding onto his shoulders.

"It was-" Then he jumped, crying out. "Fuck, it's on me!"

They both began to yell as their legs were touched by unseen things.

"It's fish!" He exclaimed after he ducked his head under the water. "It's a school of fish!"

She breathed in and out, looking at him – trying to believe him.

"Are you sure?" She asked, eyes wide.

He nodded, hoping to be correct himself. She slowly climbed off him.

"Jesus, Waldorf – I didn't know you wanted to be on me this badly," he sneered, trying to lighten the mood. Wrong choice, because she was emotional and shaken.

She smacked him and hard. "I can't believe this is happening to me!" She cried. "And with _you_ out of all people!"

"Calm down!" He tried to grab her projectile hand.

"This is your fault!" She cried. "I could be home!"

"How is this my fault?" He yelled back.

"You – you with your _trip_ ideas!" She cried.

"I _invited_ Nathaniel!" He cried. "He insisted we take you because you were being _needy_!"

She gasped and slapped him – as much as she could. "Liar!"

He bobbled away from her, and she screeched, reaching for him. "No, Chuck!"

"Stay away!" He cried, swimming from her.

Then they both paused. Stock still. All the blood draining from their faces.

A shark fin swam _right_ next to them.

"Chuck," she whispered.

"Shut up, Blair," he whispered back, never taking his eyes off the fin.

"He's going to eat us," she hissed.

"Don't move," he instructed. "Not a bit."

She simply nodded, holding her body still. The shark circled them for a while and then moved off, chasing after the school of fish.

They were quiet for a while, not daring to move.

The water felt suddenly warm around him. He turned to look at her.

"What are you doing?" He demanded.

One look from her was all he needed.

"You _peed_?" He gasped.

She began crying. "Don't look at me!"

"I can't believe this!" He yelled.

"I'm sorry!" She cried.

"_On_ me! On me! You peed _on_ me!" He yelled.

"I didn't want to be alone!" She defended herself, wiping her tears.

"You know what?" He snapped.

He let his own pee go.

She gasped, feeling the water temperature change.

"Stop it! Stop it!" She cried, disgusted.

"How do you like it, eh?"

"You bastard!"

"You bitch!"

"Arrgghhh! I _hate_ you!" She spat once he was done, with a happy satisfied smile on his face.

"Feeling's mutual," he retorted. "We've officially peed on each other, nothing can be more embarrassing."

"I don't think I can ever go back to my normal life," she admitted to him. He bristled and looked away.

That's when he saw it.

"Blair," he said, in awe.

"What?" She growled.

"Look," he said, pointing off to the distance.

She rolled her eyes and turned towards what he was pointing. Her eyes widened. There in the darkness was the outline of an island, illuminated by moonlight.

"Land!" She cried.

He nodded, too happy for words. The first thing he was going to do was book the most expensive suite and _shower_ because he didn't think he would deal with baths ever. Ordering all the food available in room service and demanding a Tahitian beauty sent to his suite.

"Swim!" He instructed her.

They swam the mile or so to the island until they found themselves finally at the beach. They were about to pass out, exhausted from hours in the storm, the floating and lack of food.

"Hello!" Chuck called out as he stumbled to the beach. "Hello!"

Blair was just laying on her back on the beach, breathing in and out and enjoying being alive and on land.

No answer. Only the animals of the night.

He stumbled back to her.

"We'll search tomorrow." He said before he threw himself on the sand and passed out along with her.

--

To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **of _Castaways_

Author: Isabelle

Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl, its characters, or anything.

Summary: Before they kissed, before the night at Victrola, they were going to meet Nate at St. Croix. That is, before their plane crashed, and they were left the only two survivors on an island with no other inhabitants. Chuck/Blair, of course.

Rating: Mostly PG-13, maybe R at one point

A/N – Always thanking my BETA, Tati, because she totally deserves a medal.

--

_I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.  
__I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.  
__On nights like this, I held her in my arms.  
__I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.  
__She loved me, sometimes I loved her.  
__How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?  
__Pablo Neruda, __Saddest Poem_

When she woke, she was sure something was wrong.

Actually, something was _very_ wrong. For starters, the sun was hitting her face, full force. Secondly – she was on the sand.

Had she fallen asleep tanning? She was so confused. Her mouth felt like someone had gone in and sucked all of the saliva out of it. She needed water _badly_.

She shifted as she fluttered her lashes and let out the only yell her dry throat would permit her when she saw a _bird_ staring at her. The bird scattered and flew off the moment she screamed. She sat up and looked around—the only form she recognized on the beach was a man lying on his stomach.

Chuck.

She kicked him with her leg.

"Chuck!" She snapped, and then coughed as her dry throat made its presence known once more.

He mumbled and rolled on his back. He had sand all over his face and was coughing as he spit it out of his mouth as well.

"Fuck!" He spit some more, wiping his tongue with his sleeve – or what was left of it.

She cleared her throat as she tried to swallow. "Where are we?" She managed.

He blinked, grimacing against the harsh rays of the sun.

"A beach," He replied, and she glared at him.

"Where are the people?" She asked.

He closed his eyes and lay back down on his back. "I'm too tired – you go find them."

She cried out as more birds landed on the beach, observing her.

"Last night was fish – now it's birds. Are there any animals you like?" He asked.

"Cats," she answered bitingly, standing up with shaky legs. Her dress was completely ruined; she had lost both her shoes in the ocean _and_ her hat.

"Where are you off to?" He asked, turning to look at her.

"Civilization," she croaked. "I need water."

He groaned and followed her lead, scaring off the birds as he threw them what was left of his jacket. They got as far as three feet into the edge of what Blair called 'the forest' when they both ran back out, as fast as their tired legs would carry them.

"What the fuck was that?" She demanded as they stared speechless at the trees.

He blinked.

"Monkeys," he gulped. "Loads of monkeys."

She let out a tired laugh. "Monkeys."

"Monkeys," he repeated, eyes still wide.

"A-are there monkeys in resorts?" She asked quietly.

Chuck looked around the surrounding beach. It was a small island. From what he could tell, at least.

Aside from the monkey noises in the trees and the birds on the beach, it was quiet. The waves crashed on the shore and there was complete peace.

"Blair… I think… We're not in a resort," he said softly.

She shook her head in denial. "No."

"I think this is an empty… island," he continued.

"No. This can't be happening." She sat down on the sand, not caring that it was once more all over her ass.

He plopped down next to her.

"No," she continued. "I can't… no. No," she denied.

He turned to look at her. He'd never seen her so… un-Blair. Her hair was a tangled mess with sand in it and pieces of seaweed. Her lips were pale and cracked, her dress was dirty and torn, she had no make up whatsoever, she was barefooted and about to cry. She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. He sighed. He was one to admit he enjoyed pain and suffering – perhaps because it was distracting. But Blair?

No, he didn't like the way it made his stomach feel seeing her so broken and upset and looking just plain distressed. He had known her since she was a little girl. Always with the perfect little dresses, with her curls perfectly done and bows and headbands on her hair. Her nails always done, her make up flawless, even during pool parties. Blair was the picture of perfection. She was the quintessential Upper East Side daughter. Poised, venomous, and beautiful. She was the type of girl he would love to deflower and leave all pleased and confused on his bed. Yes… but NO. No. This was Blair he was thinking about.

He was probably just horny.

Just horny.

Shit. How long would it be before they would be found? A couple more hours? Some days?

Shit. Shit.

She wasn't looking so very good, in all honesty.

"I need water," she said quietly. Her eyes were a bit droopy.

It wasn't that he wasn't hungry. But he'd had a breakfast of champions before the plane took off. He had been so full that he had changed to a linen suit because it fit him looser.

But he knew Blair. If he knew anything about Blair was that she'd had a sugar-free fruit shake for breakfast and maybe some fat-free yogurt. Maybe. And her mother had been home, so that maybe was looking bleak. Which meant that she was even hungrier than he was.

He sighed, running his hands over his hair.

"When did you last eat?" He asked.

She shrugged, too tired to even speak.

He spotted some coconuts on the floor. The last time he'd been to San Juan, Nathaniel and he had picked up some cold coconuts from a street vender and drank the coconut water from a straw (granted, he had added some rum to his), and it had been refreshing. He stood and walked to the coconuts. These looked brown and old. Not fresh and green like the ones he'd had.

There was about half a dozen of them, but they were all… rotten. He thought they looked rotten. He kicked them half-heartedly.

A noise made his head turn to the top of the palm tree. Monkeys.

Ugh.

They were playing with the green coconuts on the top of the tall tree.

"Hey!" He called out to them. "Mind sending some down here?"

They got more animated at his words, some jumping from tree to tree.

"Blair, look!" He said to her, and she slowly got to her feet. "They eat fruits, we just have to follow them and see where they're getting their food from."

She shook her heard, determined. "No, Chuck – I'm not going in there."

"Blair, we got to eat – look at you!"

She looked down at herself and was instantly self-conscious.

"C'mon, only a couple of feet," he said to her.

Slowly she nodded and followed close to him as they entered the forest.

They hadn't gone in more than ten feet when they became aware of how dark it was. The trees were so thick that hardly any sun entered the bottom of the forest. The noise of the monkeys was deafening.

"They're following us, Chuck," she hissed to him.

"I think they're curious," he said, not sure himself, eyeing the ones following them from above. "They're small, though."

"They probably carry disease," she said, eyeing them angrily.

"Most likely," he agreed.

"Look!" She said excitedly.

A few feet from them, there were a couple of large trees packed with fruit. He rushed forward and stared at all the food.

He let out a laugh.

"Mangoes!"

She laughed also, reached out (much to the monkey's dislike) for the fruit. The bottom of the tree was packed with it – so much so that rotten ones lay at their feet. Some of the fruit was green and hard, but others were long and yellow and ripe.

"Grab the yellow ones," he said. They grasped for a couple and sat down on the floor. She made sure to clean the fruit against her skirt because it couldn't possibly be sanitary.

"We have no knife," she said, picking at the skin. Soon she made a hole and juice spurted from the ripe fruit. She smiled and continued peeling the skin until the meat of the fruit was exposed and they hungrily ate.

"I think these are the best mangoes I've ever had," he confessed as he started on his third one. She nodded, sporting mango juice all over her chin as she hungrily bit into another one.

He smiled at her; she was looking better already. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the sugar. It was not long before they were absolutely stuffed with mangoes.

"Lets take some more, take them to the beach," he said, and they picked another ten each.

Her eyes widened nervously when he took off his shirt. He was sweating profusely and the heat was also getting to her.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Let's stuff them here," he said, spreading his shirt on the floor and dumping the mangoes he had in his hands.

She didn't stare at his half-naked form. Instead, she placed her own mangoes on the shirt. They bent down and tied the ends together, making a mini-hammock to house the mangoes.

She felt better already. Her throat wasn't parched and her belly was full.

"How long do you think it'll take them to find us?" She asked once they made it back to the beach.

"A couple of days… maybe," he admitted.

She sighed, sitting next to their fruit.

"I bet they're looking for us right now," he added confidently.

She nodded. "They must have gotten your message."

They sat in silence, staring out to the ocean.

"Can we live off mangoes?" She finally asked.

He stared at the fruit and then at her. "I don't think so. I think we need protein."

She swallowed. "We need water also."

He nodded. "Maybe we can… explore a bit."

She looked down at her feet. They were already super dry because of the sand.

"I need a bath… And I need to brush my teeth," she complained.

He laughed. "It's a good thing we're not kissing each other."

She blanched as she stared at him. A sudden horrible thought filled her.

What if… What if… Oh, no. What if they were stuck here for _weeks_? No one else around—just her and Chuck and no one else. No one else. She knew him well enough to know he got laid at least 5 times a week. On a bad week.

"Yeah. Because I have a boyfriend." She snapped defensively.

He gave her a curious look. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just reminding you," she explained.

He laughed and looked her over. "Trust me, at this moment, you're hardly appetizing."

She didn't know why that bothered her so much, but it did.

"Fine, we'll explore," she said grumpily.

He smirked.

--

Their little exploration had simply been a walk down the beach. That was before this _monster_ emerged from the water that sent them both screaming and running.

"It's a turtle!" She finally said, hiding behind him.

"Fuck – shit!" He stared wide-eyed at the monster. Because it was a monster. As large as a full grown man and simply HUGE!

"I've never seen a turtle that big," she whispered, still hiding.

"Lets just walk around it," he suggested.

She nodded, walking a good 10 feet around it, and he followed her lead.

They walked towards the edge of the forest, finding nothing but rocks, seaweed, dried coconuts, and more sticks.

"Nothing," he said finally, leaning against a rock while he rested.

"I'm hungry again," she admitted.

That was when it happened. She didn't know where they came from, but she let out a yell. He, startled, sat up. She leapt to the rock he was leaning on, scraping her knee in the process and crying out.

Chuck stared wide-eyed at the five crabs that almost attacked Blair's bare feet. They were feisty and blue.

"I'm bleeding!" She whined. He looked amused. "Shut up!" She smacked him.

"It's just a scratch," he indicated to the small scrape on her knee.

"I can't believe this is happening," she pouted, glaring at the crabs that snapped their claws at them.

Chuck studied them for a minute. "You know what I'm thinking?"

They stared at each other and then at the crabs.

"Dinner," he smirked.

Since he was the one wearing shoes, he was on stomping duty. As Blair yelped from on top of the rock, Chuck attempted to kill the crabs.

He's never been one to be violent. Never. Well… He paid others to be violent, but had never been him himself.

So when he was finally able to stomp on one, the crunch made him cringe and feel sick to his stomach.

Blair cried out. "You killed it!"

Chuck grimaced.

"Get another one!" She demanded. She was hungry enough to eat all five, but she supposed they _both_ needed to survive. I mean, if he was dead, who else would stomp on the crabs?

He was able to stomp on two more, but stopped when the fourth and fifth ganged up on him and made it to the water safely. They stared at the squashed crabs on the ground.

"How do we cook them?" She asked, climbing off the rock and standing next to him.

He stared at her like she'd lost her head. "How am I supposed to know?"

"At Chaci's, they boil them," she said rather gloomily.

"At Ceasar's, they make killer crab cakes," Chuck sounded just as mournful.

"And Dorota does make an awesome she-crab stew. Daddy used to love it," she remembered.

"Do you even know how to cook anything?" He asked, hands on hips.

She glared at him. "You_ know_ I don't."

They both stared back down at the crabs.

"Well… We'll need to cook them," she said in a resigned tone, but then raised a brow at him because she was so not touching those things.

Chuck growled and bent to pick them up. That was until one of them showed him he still had some juice left in him…. And _almost_ pinched him. He jumped back and yelped, then stomped on it once more time.

Blair was smiling when he looked at her.

"Easy, Bass," she smirked. "Don't stomp the meat out of them."

He narrowed his eyes and grabbed the crabs.

--

"We have to build a fire," she said, eyeing the sticks on the floor.

He shifted next to her, and she cursed. Out of all the men to be stranded with, she had to be stranded with Chuck Bass! Chuck Bass, who hadn't done a day of labor in his spoiled life!

"And how do you suppose we do that?" He sneered.

She sighed, exasperated. "Don't you like rub the sticks together or something?"

"I guess. I'm not the National Geographic guy, you know."

"Oh, I know," she snapped.

"Ok. We can do this." He rubbed his palms over his pants. "Stick rubbing."

She watched as he kneeled and grabbed two sticks, beginning a pathetic imitation of stick rubbing. He suddenly dropped them, howling and standing up.

"What?" She asked, confused.

"I got a splinter!" He explained, suckling on his thumb.

"Oh, my God. We're going to die," she said, eyes wide.

She stared as he suckled his thumb. "They need to be cooked soon!"

"You do it!" He yelled.

"The hell I am!" She snapped back. They were both hungry and moody. They had taken the crabs to their fruit stash and were pissed when they found half of their mangoes gone. The monkeys looked at them innocently from above the trees.

She sighed when he wouldn't bulge and gathered some sticks in a little pile. "Maybe we can try rocks. I saw once in a movie that they used rocks."

He looked around and found some beach rocks and brought them next to the sticks.

"You grab two, I grab two," he said, handing her some rocks.

Thirty minutes later, they were about to throw the rocks at each other.

His thumb was throbbing and her nails were ruined.

"I need a manicure," she told him.

"So do I," he agreed. She looked at him and laughed.

Leave it to Chuck to admit to getting manicures.

"What's the first thing you're going to do when we get back?" She asked.

He sat back on his heels, as he continued hitting the rocks together.

"A shower. Scotch. A hot brunette."

She smiled, chuckling and looking down.

"A bath with Chanel beads, Dorota's chicken soup, and Breakfast at Tiffany's," she sighed. "To help me forget this whole mess."

He nodded. "I remembered I actually liked watching Blue Lagoon. I don't think I can ever enjoy a naked Brooke Shields. Ever." His rocks sparked and lit the small dry stick he had under them.

"Fire!" She cried, pointing at his stick.

"Oh, shit!" He exclaimed, laughing as the little flame continued to grow. He grabbed the lit stick and they started lighting other sticks until they had a small but decent fire.

"We're not going to die!" She cried happily and then did something they hadn't done since fourth grade when he pushed Oliver Mayers in the playground for her. She reached out and hugged him. She quickly let go as she realized he was still not wearing a shirt.

He was looking at her strangely, so she looked away and tried to keep the fire alive by throwing more sticks into it.

They roasted the crabs as best they could and sat eating them along with the rest of the mangoes.

"They needed salt," he commented when they were almost done. Granted, the adventure of taking the meat out of the crab without the utensils they were used to was a pain in the ass, but soon enough they gave in, using their teeth and nails.

She nodded in agreement.

By the time they had finished eating, the sun was getting ready to set. The fire warmed them and made a soft glow in the darkening area.

"No one is going to believe all the things we've done and seen," she said softly after they finished washing their hands in the sea.

"Chuck Bass stomping on crabs," he laughed. "My father would die of a heart attack!"

"Blair Waldorf, stoking the fire!" She shook her head. "My mother would… she would just not believe it."

They sat in companionable silence as they sat, facing the sea and watching the sun set.

"If I wasn't with you, Bass, this would be romantic," She said.

He turned his head and studied her. Her hair was still as messy as it was this morning, but this time she looked liberated and free. True, they hadn't had the best meal in their life, but they had cooked it themselves.

There was a strange sense of satisfaction that flowed through him.

He let himself admit that she was rather pretty when she smiled. A true smile.

That's when she let out a burp. She flushed and held her mouth.

"Shit, Waldorf – you're losing class by the minute," he smirked.

"Shut up!" She cried in embarrassment and threw a stick at him, which he easily ducked.

--

"Chuck?" She asked when the night was around them and they lay next to each other, getting as comfortable as one could on the hard sand. They used their life vests as pillows.

"Humm?" He asked, eyes closed.

"I'm kinda glad you're here. I think I would've died on the plane," she admitted.

He didn't know how to answer that so he waited until she was asleep, and he turned his body to study her profile.

_Nate, Nate, Nate, Nate_

He kept repeating the mantra over and over in his head because the more he looked at her, the more he felt he needed to remind himself of that.

Then an odd thought crept in to his sick mind.

He was _glad_ Nathaniel had missed the plane.

--

To be continued

A/N - Than you so much, guys - for all the feedback!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3** of _Castaways_

Author: Isabelle

Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl, its characters, or anything.

Summary: Before they kissed, before the night at Victrola, they were going to meet Nate at St. Croix. That is, before their plane crashed, and they were left the only two survivors on an island with no other inhabitants. Chuck/Blair, of course.

Rating: Mostly PG-13, maybe R at one point

A/N – Always thanking my BETA, Tati, because she totally deserves a medal.

--

_"If a man does his best, what else is there?"  
__General George S. Patton_

The next day, they began to gather things they could use. Chuck went into the forest and got them more mangoes because Blair hated entering the forest and the monkeys seemed to be better with Chuck than with her.

While he was away, she dunked herself into the sea, furiously scrubbing at her private parts. With a piece of her dress, she scrubbed her teeth because she was sure he could smell her breath a mile away.

Once they finished their breakfast, they agreed that if they would be here for a few days they would need… more food. They were lucky the night before with the crabs, but they couldn't live off mangoes.

That's when Blair decided that Chuck needed to climb the tree and get coconuts.

"No," he replied. "What makes you the decision maker here?"

Blair placed her hands on her hips. "We need water. We've had no water for days."

Chuck looked dubiously at the palm trees. "Can we shake it a bit?"

She glared at him. "Why don't you climb another tree and see if you can reach from there?"

"With the monkeys?" He asked, brow raised.

"You're the guy!" She snapped. "Are you _really_ going to make me climb? Where's your testosterone?"

That apparently did it, because before she knew it, he had found a tree he could climb that was next to the palm tree.

He stared up at the tree. A couple monkeys looked down at him curiously.

"Any tips, guys?"

The monkeys simply cocked their heads and stared down at the pitiful male. However, they all seemed to gather in order to enjoy the show he was about to put on.

Blair stood next to him, anxiously shifting from side to side. "Be careful," she finally said as he grabbed on to the first branch and attempted to hoist himself up.

He looked down at her once his feet were steady on the branch.

"Worried about me, Waldorf?" He asked, smirking.

She glared up at him. _As if_.

"Please! Who else would stomp on crabs and go get the coconuts?"

He chuckled, but she was still anxious, wriggling her hands as he made his way up slowly and steadily.

The monkeys were not happy at all. They began to run away as Chuck got towards the top, deciding quickly they liked the new animals that had arrived on the island on the floor.

Chuck was gaining more and more confidence as he continued. Too much apparently, because he missed a stepping and slipped.

Blair let out a scream, grasping her mouth.

If he had not been holding on with his hands, he would've surely crashed to the floor and died.

"Chuck!" Blair cried, staring as he tried to hoist himself up on the branch and regain his footing.

His heart beat furiously, trying to think why he never hit the gym more often. Sure, he'd played squash all the time with his father and was in general good shape, but his upper body strength consisted of being able to pull women up to his mouth.

He finally placed his feet on another branch and lay on the one he had been holding onto, breathing in and out. He looked down at her – he was easily over twenty feet up in the air. A fall would surely kill him.

"Chuck?" Blair cried from below.

"I'm fine," he said, looking down at her.

She looked downright worried as she shifted from side to side, her eyes wide.

"I said be careful!" She spit out angrily.

"I am!" He spat back. "You try climbing the tree!"

She huffed and flipped him off, which oddly made him laugh. His heartbeat calmed a bit. He looked ahead of him and decided if he scooted further out into the branch, he would be able to reach the coconuts.

"I think I can reach them," he told her.

"No, Chuck – the branch is too thin!" She cried, hoping in place.

"You calling me fat?" He teased.

"Chuck, no!" She gasped, eyes everywhere, when he began to scoot forward.

"If I die, cry over my body, ok?" He smirked down at her.

"That's not funny, Chuck – dammit!" She stomped her foot.

"Just know that I died getting you a coconut!" He teased her.

"You know what? Forget, I don't want it!" She said to him.

He laughed, then reached out – his fingers could almost touch them.

He heard her whimpering and sending curses his way.

"Almost…" he whispered to himself. Then he could finally touch them.

Of course, he expected them to fall right on the ground. They didn't. Apparently, you had to yank them.

Well, fuck…

"Got to yank them!" He told her and she let out another 'come down right now' tirade. He ignored her and with both hands, as steady as he could yanked it out.

The coconut lay in his hands and he let out a laugh.

Look at him!

"Catch!" He said to her and let it go. She got out of the way and looked at the item as it lay by her feet.

"Ok, you got one – now come down!" She yelled at him.

He ignored her and continued grabbing some until about a dozen lay by her feet.

"Chuck, please – please come down!" She was begging now.

He finally agreed with her. Slowly, almost falling twice and causing him more splinters than he was willing to complain about (because it was just too girly), he made it down.

That was when she attacked him.

"You stupid fool! You could've gotten killed!" She smacked his bare chest, making him wince and jump away.

"That's a load of thanks from you!" He shouted.

She looked downright scary. Her hair was getting worse by the day and her cheeks were flushed, her eyes narrowed.

"Don't mess with me, Chuck! I've had the same panties on for three days!" She spat.

"Please don't tell me that."

--

They finally gathered all the fallen coconuts around their little 'camp'.

"Ok, how do we eat them?" She asked, staring at him.

Chuck sighed. "I just love how you think I know all these survival things."

"Well, you're a guy," she remarked.

"Oh, like you should know how to cook because you're a girl?"

She narrowed her eyes and watched as he picked one up and threw it against a rock. Apparently it worked, because it cracked and water flowed from it.

"Quick!" He cried, and she scampered, placing her mouth against the coconut as he held it.

The water filled her mouth and she sighed contently.

Finally! He watched her as she suckled the coconut until all the water was out; watched her mouth moving back and forth – her tongue peeking out and licking the juices. He was entranced by the sight. Especially when her hand came up and touched his, holding the fruit to her mouth as she made pleasant satisfied noises in the back of her throat. His mouth went dry from the erotic sight.

She pulled back and sighed, licking her lips.

"I was so thirsty," she confessed.

Chuck shook himself out of his reverie and nodded, thirsty himself. He grabbed another one, cracked it against the rock, and suckled on the juice that came forth.

He sighed, content at finally having drunk some liquid.

She stared as he suckled on the fruit, his throat working back and forth, some juices flowed down his bare chest—darkened from the time under the sun—and she was transfixed. She quickly looked away, staring at the item in her hand.

"I wonder what else you can do with it," she wondered as she studied her broken coconut.

He hit his against the rock until it cracked in two. He smiled as he saw the meat inside of it.

"We can eat it," he said. She watched as he slurped on the wet, white concoction.

"It's good!" He said. "Never had coconut before?" He asked in response to her disgusted face.

She shook her head. He grabbed her coconut and slammed it against the rock, splitting it.

"Eat it," he instructed. She eyed the white 'meat' and finally reached out and slipped it into her mouth. She grimaced at how it felt.

"Swallow," he said, knowing full well she didn't like the texture.

She swallowed it, blanching. "That was gross."

"Have some more," he commanded. She shook her head, and he sighed.

"We're castaways, and you're going to be picky?" He asked.

She glared at him and reached out, grabbing some more meat and chewing on it.

"Like oysters," he said, smirking.

She glared back.

--

"We can make bowls out of this and capture rain," he said, studying the coconut shells.

She stared at him dubiously as she made a giant HELP sign on the beach.

"Well, aren't you quite the little Boy Scout," she mocked.

"I did actually get placed with the cubs… They gave up on me after three months, much to Bart's dislike."

She watched as he became pensive.

"We'll get home, and then you wont have to worry about surviving ever again," she smiled.

He nodded, watching her. He was resting – he had carved the H and the E; she was finishing up the sign. Her skin was turning a bronzed gold; all the hours they had spent under the sun had done that. Her hair was also getting honey-colored as the sun bleached her locks.

"I should start the fire," he said, shaking himself.

"Chuck, look!" she cried.

He quickly turned and smirked when he spotted half a dozen crabs coming out of the ocean and making their unsuspecting way up the beach.

This time, he was an expert.

He killed them faster than he had the day before as Blair cheered him on.

"Dinner!" he proclaimed, looking at the crabs.

--

Starting a fire took only 25 minutes this time. The HELP sign lay forgotten as they roasted the crabs once more over their small fire while the sun set.

This time Blair got creative.

"What are you doing?" Chuck asked, panicked. She had cracked a coconut and poured the water slowly over the crabs as they roasted.

"Crabs roasted in coconut water," she said proudly.

He smiled. "How creative, Martha Stewart."

"I do try."

Once they were done they sat and ate in silence, cracking the shells and suckling the juice out.

"Gives it a bit of flavor," he admitted.

"Oh, admit it, Bass." she smirked, throwing a shell on the ground. "I'm a culinary genius."

"Don't throw the shells out, Emeril, we can use them."

She smirked at him. "Oh, my God, you _are_ a boy scout."

"Shut up," he said, ducking his head as she laughed. "Someone has to save your ass."

"I could've totally made it on my own!" she snapped.

"Oh, sure you could've – like I would survive boot camp," he joked.

--

She sat up when he got up from his 'bed'.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

His figure was outlined in the dark. They had just turned off the fire a minute before.

"Bathroom," he murmured behind him. She watched him until she heard him get into the ocean.

That was how they had been doing it. Pooping and peeing in the shore, taking turns. It still scared her to death, going in the water alone in the dark, but she was getting more and more comfortable with it. Plus, it gave her a chance to wash a bit. Her skin was completely dry, her hair was a mess, and she was sure she looked like hell.

Blair had grown up used to Chuck's appreciating looks and commenting on her dress and appearance.

Now he barely looked at her. She knew she must look like hell. She missed her mirror. She heard him in the distance and noticed that she hadn't even thought of Nate all day. Sure, she'd thought of being rescued and of school, but not of Nate.

"I really, really think we should explore the island tomorrow," he said a minute later as he lay back down, knowing full well she was awake.

She lay in the dark for a bit, taking in his words. "Ok," she finally gave in, and she heard him sigh in relief.

--

After she finished drinking the last bit of her coconut and using the crab claw to scrape the bits of coconut meat, he came to her with two sticks in his hand. They were long and sturdy.

"In case we have to climb," he explained. "I figure we can go along the coast and see if there are any caves."

She nodded, taking a stick. He sat on the rock and took off shoes. Then he took off his socks and handed them to her.

She scrunched her nose, studying him and his socks.

"I'm being nice. Your feet might hurt," he said.

She sighed and took them, staring at the pink socks doubtfully. She then stared at him from the corner of her eye as he slipped on his shoes without socks and without any complaints.

Once she was in socks and he was back in his shoes, they began making their way around the coast.

They picked up some crabs along the way, so he made a small bag out of his jacket and stuffed them in to have them for lunch.

"More fruit trees!" she exclaimed happily, pointing to another tree they hadn't seen yet. They stood before the vine and stared at it.

"They look like grapes," Chuck remarked.

"The monkeys are eating them," she noticed.

He nodded, reaching out and taking one. They were dark violet and firm and there were thousands of them. Some were green and the monkeys avoided those.

He carefully put them in his mouth.

"Good?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yeah – like very sweet grapes."

She exclaimed happily, reaching out to get some for herself. They ate until they were stuffed, and then placed a few bushels into his makeshift bag, making sure they didn't touch the crabs.

They walked along the shore, and that was when they found it.

Chuck stopped on his tracks and stared. The island had small hills, and on top of one hill – by a cliff was… a shed. A hut. Something human.

"Hey!" he shouted, startling Blair. She saw the hut and started calling out herself.

"Help!" she chimed in.

"C'mon!" he said, reaching and grabbing her hand then beginning the climb up the hill.

It took them nearly an hour to reach the top. Their feet were unaccustomed to the track, they had to pause to take a breath every five minutes and Blair's feet were killing her. They both complained the entire way.

"Do you think it's inhabited?" She asked anxiously as they approached the small hut.

It didn't look any bigger than her bathroom back home, but it had a little door and small windows.

"Sure," he said, entirely too confidently.

But as they approached the hut, no one answered their cry. The hut looked to be built out of chunks of wood, branches, and other things found in the forest.

"Anyone here?" He called out as he opened the small door.

She gasped when the open door revealed a small cot-like-structure, a small chair, books, knick knacks all over, and a small stove-type of structure with a small pot on top of it. On a small table, there was a large knife and a home-made hammer.

"It's a little house!" she exclaimed, looking in.

"Where are the people?" he asked, still dubious and unwilling to enter.

Finally, they walked in, and he led her around the house until she screamed. And she had every right to scream.

Before them was a skeleton. A human skeleton. She was so shaken that she buried her face in his chest, unable to look at the remains.

He held her close, shaken up as well, as he stared down at the bones. The skeleton was lying on its back, with a hand to its chest and long hair flowing about it.

"It looks like it's been dead for a while," he remarked. "Like decades."

This only made her cry more because she realized in the back of her mind that no one – for decades – had come looking for this man.

--

They sat outside the hut for a while, thinking over the consequences.

It was quiet and up here; the monkeys were not as loud, making the island quieter and more peaceful. They could hear the waves crashing below.

"How long do you think he lived here… alone?" she asked him.

He didn't dare answer her because for a moment there the thought came to him that they may _never_ be rescued. That their families thought they had died on the plane crash and that there was no use in searching for them. They may be stuck on this island for the rest of their lives until they died trying to survive, or old age overtook them, and years later another stranded couple would find their skeletons.

He slowly stood and faced the cabin.

"I'm going in." he said, determined.

"It's _his_ place!" she cried, standing and following him regardless of how upset she felt about it.

"I don't think he'd mind," Chuck remarked darkly.

"Respect the dead!" she hissed. "His ghost is likely lingering on the island."

"It would've attacked us by now," he replied dryly.

They entered the hut and stood shoulder to shoulder as they looked around. She went for an open book first.

"It's a journal!" she cried, looking over the aged paper. "It's in French!"

He stood next to her, looking over the small aged book.

"Last date of entry… 1995," she gulped, closing it and looking at him.

He cursed. "That doesn't mean anything, Blair. He was probably a nobody – a lost sailor."

She looked around the room. Everything as Mr. Body had left it.

"Knife." Chuck picked up the dusty and rusted knife along with the hammer.

"Look," she said, looking over the books. "School books… The pages are rotten."

He nodded. "Sea air."

They turned to the small cot made out of old cushions and tattered sheets.

"A bed," she sighed.

"I miss my bed," he admitted.

She nodded. "We should bury Mr. Body."

He turned to her, trying not to smile.

"Sure."

He turned to leave, and she followed him with her eyes.

"Chuck?" he stopped and he saw the evident distress in her eyes. "I want to go home."

Her face crumbled and he stood there watching her cry. He didn't know what else to do, but when he tried to pat her shoulder, she turned into him and cried on him.

He felt her warm tears dribble on his chest, and he tightened his hold on her.

"I'll try to get you home, Blair – don't cry," he finally said.

As she watched him walk out and bury Mr. Body, she made a decision. If they were going to live her for a few more days – perhaps even weeks—then she'd have to get her hands dirty. She grabbed some sticks from outside and placed them in the small metal stove-like contraption Mr. Body had built. It took her a few tries, but she was eventually able to light a fire. She smiled in satisfaction.

By the time Chuck was done burying the bones and had re-entered the cabin, she had been able to grill the crabs over the small fire, filling the hut with the smell of food.

He smirked, watching her in her skimpy little floral dress as she attempted to turn the crabs. Her skirt was already almost to the very top of her thighs, pieces missing from what he knew was an attempt at brushing her teeth. Her hair was now pulled back with a piece of string she had found in the hut, and he thought she looked downright beautiful as she walked around barefoot, his socks now on top of the chair as she tried to make them food.

"Honey, I'm home," he murmured, and she jumped, not noticing him there.

"Shit, Chuck! You scared me!" she chided.

"Oh? Bad day? Did the neighbors drop in again?"

She glared at him.

He smirked.

They ate in companionable silence.

"There must be a fresh water source around here. We can look tomorrow. I'm dead tired," he confessed. She nodded.

That's when both of their eyes found the one and only little bed.

Two of them. One little, tiny bed.

--

To be continued


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4** of _Castaways_

Author: Isabelle

Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl, its characters, or anything.

Summary: Before they kissed, before the night at Victrola, they were going to meet Nate at St. Croix. That is, before their plane crashed, and they were left the only two survivors on an island with no other inhabitants. Chuck/Blair, of course.

Rating: Mostly PG-13, maybe R at one point

A/N – Always thanking my BETA, Tati, because she totally deserves a medal.

--

"_There is no life I know to compare with pure imagination. Living there, you'll be free if you truly wish to be. If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it. Anything you want to, do it. Want to change the world? There's nothing to it."  
__Willy Wonka_

Chuck cleared his throat, looking anxiously at Blair.

"You take it," he said quickly.

Blair stared at Chuck. What? What just happened?

This was Chuck Bass; a guy known for being selfish and shrewd, unaware and uninterested in anyone's well being aside from his own, his scarf's and Nate's. _Sometimes_ he would care for her. Like when her father left her mother, he booked her a week at his father's suite in Chicago, away from all the gossip and the eyes.

She stayed a week in the hotel, and there had been fresh flowers delivered every morning along with endless supplies of classic films.

She'd never said thank you because he had never asked for it.

But she knew Chuck and knew he enjoyed the good things in life as much as she did.

She shook her head.

"No, Chuck – of course not!" She resisted resolutely.

"Look." He pointed to the floor. "Floor is better than sand, any day."

"Ok. But you sleep on the bed tomorrow – we'll take turns," she compromised.

She turned her head when he began studying her and walked to the small cot, dusting it off before she lay tentatively on it.

The fire on the stove was giving the room a soft orange glow as the night surrounded the hut.

She watched as he looked around the things in the room, spotting some old photographs that were nearly disintegrated. He turned to her when he found a long rod.

"Fishing rod. I think," he wondered out loud. "Yes, look – a hook!"

She smiled before looking at him dubiously. "Do you even know how to fish?"

He shrugged. "How hard can it be? Throw in the hook and a fish comes out."

"What are you going to do when the fish is out? Don't you have to like clean it or something?"

They both groaned as they got a visual. They hadn't cleaned the crabs – they had just eaten the claws. But with fish… There might be blood. There would definitely be blood.

"We have to find a spring before we can venture into fishes," he asserted, and she nodded.

"We'll look tomorrow," she assured him.

She watched as he tried to make himself comfortable on the hard and dusty floor. She finally sighed and threw him the moldy blanket.

His head turned to look at her.

"How gracious of you." he said, smirking at her.

"I figured, since you're acting like a gentleman, the least I can do is throw you a blanket."

His chuckle made her smile as she turned her face into the hut wall.

--

When he woke, his back felt better than it had in days. No more lumpy sand; the solid floor felt better on his back. He shifted and slowly rose, listening to the bird noises in the forest around them.

He turned to find Blair peacefully sleeping, snoring softly as she snuggled into the old cushions.

He slowly stood, walking to her and starting in on her. Her long lashes fell over her cheeks and her pouty lips breathed in and out softly.

He found himself smiling at her, then a thought shook him.

She was Nate's. She was Nate's girl – had always been. Since he had known them, she had been Nate's. Since he had watched her and brown curls bounce around her, she had been Nate's girl. Granted, he knew where Nate's heart lay… but he also knew where Blair's heart lay. Blair was completely devoted to her perfect boyfriend and her perfect life.

This made him _angry_. So angry he had to storm out.

Fuck, he was horny. So fucking horny.

He walked outside and stared at the ocean from the cliff. It _was_ quite a view. A million dollar view.

He was used to million dollar views.

He looked in on the small window into the hut and saw that Blair was still sleeping. Softly, he made his way a bit down the hill and began what he had _needed_ to do for some days.

--

When Blair woke she sighed contentedly, because the nightmare was finally over.

She was in a bed. A warm… dusty, smelly, disgusting bed. She sat up, startled.

Oh, yeah… The hut.

"Chuck?" She asked when she didn't spot him on the floor. The blanket was discarded, and she felt a shiver of fear take over her.

"Chuck!" She cried out.

She scrambled to her feet, looking around.

He probably went for some mangoes. She decided to give him a few minutes. She sat on the small chair and ate the rest of the grapes they had collected the day before. But she became impatient. Where _was_ he?

She grabbed the walking stick he had gotten her and began to make it down the small hill.

That was when she saw him. His bare back against a tree, his pants down to his knees and his right hand grasping his… _penis_.

She stood stock-still, watching his head thrown back, his throat exposed, biting his lips, eyes closed, and a look of pure ecstasy on his face.

She had been watching for a minute when she felt a distinct warmth between her own legs. She let out a squeak, but the squeak was enough for him to open his eyes and catch her catching him, catching them.

"Blair!" He cried and, at that moment, he ejaculated. She gasped, but never took her eyes off his penis.

Oh, my God.

Their eyes met, and she yelped, quickly turning her head and swiftly making it up the hill without the aid of the stick.

--

He sat there, panting, wondering if what happened had just happened. Did Blair just catch him…. No. Had he come just by seeing her there?

Oh, shit.

Oh, fucking shit.

No, no, this was bad.

He closed his eyes, putting his penis back into his pants as he zipped them up.

He remembered her face, watching him – wide eyed, confused, and utterly mortified.

Oh, it would never be the same again between them. Never.

Of course, the thought of her watching him masturbate made him semi-hard once more.

His penis was a traitor.

--

Blair didn't know how she made it back into the hut so fast, but she did.

She began pacing back and forth, back and forth.

"Seventy five bottles of beer on the wall," she murmured under her breath.

Chuck.

Cock.

Hand.

Oh, no.

_Thirty five and half bottles of beer on the wall_.

Shit, shit, shit.

She would never be able to look at him again, never again. Just thinking about it made her flush from head to foot. She looked down at her hands and suddenly realized how filthy they were. She was just so filthy. And ugly and disgusting.

She let out a cry, rubbing her hands together because if she had ever seen them, she would've never thought they belonged to a Waldorf.

She was rubbing her hands furiously when he entered the hut.

She stopped, slowly looking at him.

"I found something," he said, hoping they could both ignore his previous morning activities.

--

He didn't help her nor did he reach for her the way she had grown accustomed to the past few days. Instead, he stayed completely away from her, and this stung her.

He took her around the house, around a slippery hill, and then….

"Oh!" She cried, smiling as she looked at the sight before her.

It seemed Mr. Body had been quite the farmer.

"The monkeys don't come up here, so it's remained relatively the same, some overgrown bushes, but I think we can get rid of them," he said, walking around the small but fruitful garden.

She looked around. There was an avocado tree, filled with fruit, some star fruit trees, tomato vines, a papaya tree, plantains and bananas, okra, oranges and lemons, cherries, eggplants, herbs and other items she couldn't identify.

"I even found some pineapples!" He cried happily, pointing to the ground.

She let out a laugh. "Oh, my God!"

She was so relieved and happy that the tension that had been building in her shoulders relaxed, and she reached out, hugging him once more. The memories of the morning flooded her the moment their skins touched, and she quickly pulled back, red faced.

He shifted.

"Blair… about this morning-"

"Didn't happen," she stopped him.

He looked at her, and she looked at him, and then they both nodded.

They were quiet, taking the fruits and vegetables in when they heard a sound.

"Do you hear that?" he asked, looking at her.

She slowly nodded.

"C'mon," he said urgently, and this time he reached out his hand to help her down a small slope. They followed the sound until they came upon a small clearing, both staring wide-eyed at the sight before them.

A waterfall. A beautiful, stunning, and fresh waterfall.

She let out a scream of delight and they both raced to the water. Before she knew it, and before she could consider decency, she had stripped her dress and was down to her bra and panties, launching herself into the water.

Her followed suit, dropping his pants and sporting only his boxer-briefs before getting into the cool water.

They splashed around, happily bathing after so many days, drinking the water.

She let a sigh of relief as she swam to him.

"I have never, ever wanted to bathe so badly in my life," she said, a smile plastered on her face.

"Agreed," He said, smiling at her.

They drank the water by the waterfall, filling their stomachs. They rinsed their mouths and smiled some more because no one else would ever understand the joy of finally being clean.

"Rules!" She cried, looking at him.

"Rules?" He asked, confused.

"No peeing or pooping in this water," She declared, raising her hand.

"Wholeheartedly agree," he said, raising his own hand in a solemn vow.

They nodded at each other.

"Alternating water duty," she continued.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"One day you bring the daily water, the next I do. Up the hill," she said, pointing up to the hut.

He feigned a heart attack. "You're willing to do actual labor?"

She laughed. "Minimal!"

"I can't believe it!" He mock-cried and she splashed him. He splashed back and they began to play with the water. He ducked, getting out and climbing a small rock, then looking down at her.

"I'm clean!" He yelled, arms spread wide. She looked up at him and laughed, swimming away so he could dive into the water. She watched him dive into the water, coming up and spurting some out of his mouth. She climbed out of the water and went up the rock herself.

She looked down, nervously shifting – a bit scared.

"C'mon – do it! Liberate yourself, Waldorf!" He egged her on from the water.

She finally spread out her arms, smiling widely and threw herself in with a shout.

The feel of the water all over her was euphoric and by the time she emerged, he was already climbing the rock once more.

That's when he paused.

"Blair!" He cried. "There's a cave!"

She quickly got out of the water and climbed up to where he was, staring at the hidden but large entrance.

"Oh, my God!" She exclaimed. It was beautiful, decorated with hanging moss – like something out of a tourist pamphlet.

"Let's go in," he said, and she quickly clutched his hand as he began walking down the stones. They were slippery and a few times they had to clutch onto each other so they wouldn't slip.

They stood at the mouth of the cave, which was easily easy twenty feet high.

"It's dark," she whispered. He looked around and spotted some river rocks. Hitting them together, he was able to light a small fire in less than ten minutes.

"You're getting good at this," she said admiringly as they assembled a semi-torch with some moss and a fallen tree branch.

"It's the boy scout in me," he smirked at her. He held the torch ahead as she followed closed by when they entered the cave.

"What do you suppose is in here?" She asked, studying the cave walls. They were smooth, yet rocky and wet. But it was so quiet in the cave, their voices echoed in the space. The further they went in, the more their echoes resounded.

"No more, Chuck – c'mon," she implored, pulling at his arm. Her eyes were wide with fear because the visibility was so very limited.

He nodded and finally turned around. That's when she felt she stepped on _something_. Her body froze because she was barefoot and it felt like…

"What's on the floor?" She asked, a sense of dread filling her as she felt more and more _things_ on the floor.

He slowly lowered the torch, and she dared not look. His face was pale.

"Oh. fuck…" He said, eyes widening. "Oh, fuck…"

"Oh, my God." She looked down, and there it was. _Millions_ of beetles. All over. Her. All over her and Chuck's feet.

To a person observing them, it would've been funny since the two ran out screaming and shaking, throwing bugs off them as they went along.

"Get them off me, get them off!!" She screamed, stomping her feet and shaking her hair.

"Fuck, fuck!" He cried, and then ran to the water and dunk in; she quickly followed suit.

"The cave is evil," she said to him once they were neck-high in water and completely bug free.

--

Now bathed and clean, he felt he could conquer the world. Well… He could conquer fishing. They found old buckets on the side of the hut, and they brought some fresh water up to the hut. Blair was compulsively cleaning everything and anything.

She was moody, so he let her have the bed and grabbed the fishing rod. He followed what looked to be a little well-worn path down the cliff and was pleased when he found a small pool of water.

And, of course, there were fish. He smirked, throwing down the hook and sitting, watching.

He looked out into the ocean, the waves splashing under him. It was so very peaceful here; if he'd been another man, he would've loved it.

He was with a beautiful girl, stranded in a deserted island – a tropical paradise. He smiled, shaking his head.

No.

Nate.

Nathaniel. His best friend, who was probably mourning them… _Mourning_ them. Which meant that, most likely, he thought they were dead. And if everyone thought they were dead, _technically_ she didn't have a boyfriend, and he didn't have a best friend.

His thoughts were quickly interrupted as a fish caught the hook. He yelled happily and began to reel it in. The reeling consisted of him walking backwards and waiting for the fish to run out of 'air'. It took about five minutes and, finally, he felt the line go limp.

He began pulling the string up and, sure enough; there was a pinkish medium-size fish. Large enough for a satisfying meal along with the fruits and vegetables they had discovered.

--

They both stood over the fish, staring at it.

"We have to gut it," he informed her, not making one move towards the fish.

"Then do it. Do it outside – I just cleaned the floor," She said, hands on hips.

He looked her over and chuckled. "Look at you – Dorota would be proud."

Her nostrils flared. "You may be ok sleeping on dusty floors, but I'm not."

She pushed him and the fish outside. She, of course, watched. Cringing as he stood over the fish with the knife.

"Slit the belly… I saw it in a movie once," she instructed.

He turned, glaring at her.

"No comments from the peanut gallery, please," he growled.

She threw him a grape and it hit his head.

"That's it – no fish for you!"

"Fish-Nazi!"

--

There was an eerie calm in the island. The sea had gone dead, the birds flew away, and monkeys made themselves scarce. The heat was stifling; as if all the air had been sucked out.

He became worried and started searching for her because she had been gone for a good long while, and he was getting anxious without her around.

He found her by the outside of the cave wall with a burning stick in one hand and a small pen-shaped stick on the other.

"I've been looking for you!" He chided, coming up behind her.

She turned to look at him and then went back to her 'drawing' of stick figures.

"What are you doing? I thought you said the cave was evil," he teased.

"It's been two weeks," she said, the sorrow taking over her voice.

He looked at the sticks she had drawn on the wall.

Twenty-four of them. He gulped, looking down and stuffing his hands into his tattered pants.

"It'll be any day now, Blair," he said softly, but her shoulders remained slumped.

"I don't think so, Chuck…" Her voice was soft and so un-Blair like that he didn't know if he could handle it. "You know what I think?"

He remained quiet.

"I think they think we're dead. I think… I think we're going to die here." She turned to him, and he was surprised to find her quite calm despite the quiver in her voice.

"You're a Waldorf, and I'm a Bass… We're not meant to die here," he assured her, tilting his head.

She studied him; he had a five o-clock shadow growing. He tried to shave it every few days by sharpening a blade they had found in one of the boxes Mr. Body had kept.

She, of course, used it more than he did, attempting to control her hairy legs and armpits. She had no reason, of course. Her boyfriend was on the other side of the world and had given up searching for her. Had taken her for dead.

This hurt her most of all.

"If I was yours…" She began carefully.

His body stiffened, but she never took her eyes off his. The air around them was stifling and neither moved. Both afraid. Both so very afraid.

"If I was yours, and I was missing, presumed dead. Would you search for me?" Her voice was tiny, thirsty for reassurance.

He studied her. Her face had changed so much and yet so very little that he found himself entranced by it when she talked to him.

She would comb her hair with her fingers and tie it in buns, letting it dry that way. Once it was dry, she would let the curls cascade down her back, and he would become fixated with staring at it. Her body was evenly tanned now, bringing out highlights in her hair and even eyebrows.

He was quiet, then he finally placed his hands on her shoulders. They studied each other, never taking their eyes away.

"Everyday. Until I found you."

Because he would. After this – he would. He would move sky and earth to find her. Because having her next to him was like breathing, and he didn't know exactly what that meant at the moment, but he knew he had never felt this way before and it scared him, excited him, and absolutely made him want to be a better person. A better man.

She smiled slowly and touched his face.

"I would, too."

That was when it happened.

Perhaps they were so immersed in the conversation that they didn't notice the shifting of the sky. The dark ominous clouds; the warning from Mother Nature.

Their heads turned and jumped when a sharp lightening hit one of the forest trees.

She held onto him, and he held her back.

They stared at the sky.

"A storm?" She asked.

But his heart told him something else – all of his natural instincts told him to take her and go to a safe place.

"C'mon," he said, taking her hand and going up to their hut.

They were getting more and more accustomed to the hills and the vegetation. Now it only took a brisk ten minute walk from the beach to the hut. They both looked out the sea the moment they reached their cliff.

Blair gasped, looking out in to the ocean.

The sky was angry and… circular.

"What the hell is that?" She asked.

Chuck's hand unconsciously went out and grabbed hers, and she grasped it – like a lifeline.

"That… is a hurricane."

--

To be continued


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5** of _Castaways_

Author: Isabelle

Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl, its characters, or anything. Lyrics 'Reasons to Love' by Meiko.

Summary: Before they kissed, before the night at Victrola, they were going to meet Nate at St. Croix. That is, before their plane crashed, and they were left the only two survivors on an island with no other inhabitants. Chuck/Blair, of course.

Rating: Mostly PG-13, maybe R at one point

A/N – Always thanking my BETA, Tati, because she totally deserves a medal.

--

_Let the world's sharpness, like a clasping knife,  
__Shut in upon itself and do no harm  
__In this close hand of Love, now soft and warm,  
__And let us hear no sound of human strife  
__After the click of the shutting. Life to life—  
__Elizabeth Barrett Browning_

The moment he said the word _hurricane,_ a chill went up Blair's spine. She had visuals of the week her class was forced to watch the Katrina rescue missions. People stranded, floating dead, no food or water.

"Chuck…"

He turned to her, his hands suddenly on her face.

"Grab all you can – we're going to the cave."

Her heart stopped.

"No, I can't – Chuck I can't-"

"Yes!" He said firmly. "Grab all you can. We won't go too deep into it – we'll stay away from the bugs," he assured her.

She looked back at the storm and then back into his dark eyes. She squeezed his hands in hers and nodded.

They needed no words; they began working together flawlessly. She grabbed some of the sheets from the little bed and started throwing all the fruits and vegetables she could find, enough to last them a couple of days. She also grabbed the seeds they had been saving up in a coconut shell and stuffed then. She had a feeling they would have to start over.

He grabbed the knife, the hammer, and the sturdy sticks he'd been using to knock down coconuts. He also grabbed what he was calling his 'trusty rocks' – according to him, they made making a fire very easy (easy still being a good 10 minutes).

He began piling their firewood into another makeshift sack. Just as soon as they had packed as much as they could, the rain began to fall.

He tried to tie down the small little windows and door of the hut but as he did it he realized there might be no point.

"Ready?" He asked her, and their eyes met once more. She nodded, gulping. She reached out and took his hand. He looked down at their hands and pulled her out of the hut. She glanced once more to the hut before following him down the hill, which was now becoming slick with mud.

They made it down the hill after a few slips and slides until they were both covered in mud. When they made it to the bottom they noticed the river that carried the waterfall was already more violent than they had ever seen it.

"Is it safe to be so close to it?" She asked him.

"If we were in its path, then no. But we're not," he replied, pulling her to the cave.

She looked at the cave apprehensively. Deep down, she knew it was the one place that could sustain the winds, that they would have no chance in the hut no matter how close they held each other…

They entered the cave, and at that moment, the wind started moving the trees with such force that Blair jumped back as the coconuts began falling out of their own accord.

There was noise coming from the cave, and Blair stopped on her tracks.

"Chuck…."

He stopped, hoisting up his bag over his shoulder.

That was when the most horrible thing happened.

_Thousands_ of BATS flew out of the cave, hitting them full force.

Blair continued screaming as Chuck pulled her against the wall and covered her body with his as he did some yelling of his own.

And just like that… they were gone.

She was still shaking, sobbing, and a mess. He was also shaking a little, staring wide-eyed out the cave.

"They're gone," he said, looking around. The cave looked relatively empty, except for a few monkeys who had scampered in, and there was plenty of room for everyone.

Blair didn't let go of him, not until they had settled in a corner. They sat next to each other, their supplies on either side, as the winds and the fierce rain continued outside.

--

"How much longer?"

"Not long… I think."

"Have you ever been through one?"

"Yeah… When I was like ten. I got stuck in Taiwan with my nanny."

"Was it like this?"

"No. We had ice cream."

"Ice cream does make everything better. Any chance of us making our own?"

"I'm not _that_ talented."

"I'm disappointed, Chuck Bass. You had a chance of winning over a fan."

"_Please,_ you know you love me…"

"…. In your dreams, Bass."

--

"You think it ended?" She asked him, peering out into the darkness.

They'd been in the cave for over ten hours. Their legs were tired, and Chuck was restless. He was now pacing back and forth, back and forth. She watched him in the dark.

"I'm going to go check," he finally decided.

She shot up to her feet. "I'll go with you."

"No, you stay here," he replied.

"I'm not a damsel in distress!" She snapped, hands on her hips.

"Really? Didn't look like it to me when you were screaming your head off with those bats," he leered, smirking.

"You were screaming too, Bass – don't try me!" She poked his chest.

"Fine. Come," he said. "Grab everything before the monkeys do it for us."

They hoisted their bags over their shoulders and walked to the front of the cave. The wind was still blowing.

"I think we should stay here," she called to him above the wind.

He looked out.

"I just want to check on the hut – stay here."

She finally nodded, standing anxiously by the cave as she watched him, his stick in one hand and the large knife in another.

His hair whipped around in the wind, as did what was left of his pants. He looked back one last time before he began his trek. She kept looking at him until she couldn't see him anymore and then sunk down, resting her chin on her knees, and waited.

And waited… and waited. The wind was still whipping and there was a lot of fallen trees and debris. Rain was still coming steady, but not as strong as a few hours before.

She stood now, he had been gone for over half an hour and she was alone.

--

Chuck walked steady on his feet, avoiding branches on the floor and using his stick to prevent himself from toppling over. Slowly and with much difficulty, he made it to the top of the hill.

He sighed when he saw the state of the 'garden'. It was a mess, but not completely lost. The hut was another mess. It took the brunt of the storm, but at least the small four walls were still up. The door was a lost cause and so were the windows and all of their things were soaked, but at least it had a roof… well, half a roof.

A particularly hard wind blew and knocked him into a bush. He groaned and picked himself up, deciding to go back down and stay with Blair for another couple of hours.

He didn't count, of course, with the river suddenly erupting and overflowing by a good 2 feet. The path he knew was gone and, before he knew it, he was almost swimming against the tide.

That's when his shoe slipped on one of the moldy river rocks and got stuck in a crevice. He was so startled that he dropped his stick. The water was only knee-high but was quickly rising. He tried to pull and tug his foot but to no avail. His shoe was stuck. He groaned and tried to reach in and untie his shoe, attempting to dislodge his foot.

The water was coming down faster and faster and the winds would occasionally blow him over, and he struggled, tugging and panting. A strong current knocked him over and he was thrown into the water, foot still stuck as the river quickly rose. When he emerged from the water, he realized the rocks were slipping into the deep part of the river. He began to struggle in earnest then, pulling and tugging, yelling as his head continued to go under water.

He pictured Blair in his head, alone as she discovered his body, drowned under the current. He didn't know or want to understand at that moment why that made him struggle more. She wouldn't make it by herself – they needed each other. He wouldn't want to do it without her.

But the current was strong. It was getting cold and he was shivering and tired. So tired that the knife slipped from his hand. He yelled when it happened, pissed off at the powers that be.

"Help me!" he cried to the dark heavens. "Give me a fucking break!"

Chuck Bass was not going to drown. He'd survived a plane crash, he'd survived nature, and he sure as hell wasn't going to die by drowning.

He was Chuck fucking Bass. He was… Fuck, he was drowning. Only his head remained above the water now.

That was when he felt small hands on his shoulders.

"Chuck!"

"Blair, get out of the water, get out – it's rising!" he cried to her, pushing her off as best he could. She threw herself completely into the river, making her head go under, which made him panic.

"Blair!" he attempted to reach out to her, and she quickly swam to him.

"Your foot's stuck," she told him, coming up from the water.

"I know – get out!" he cried. She shook her head, holding onto a large rock nearby.

"I'm not leaving you!" she cried to him, and he stared at her. The river got angrier and his head sunk under. He heard her cry out his name in panic.

He tried to pull once more, his lungs protesting.

That's when he opened his eyes and saw her. She had sunk under and swam before him, placing her small hands on either side of his face, her eyes wide as they stared at each other under the water.

His entire body chilled as she brought her lips to his and blew air into him. His eyes widened, staring at her as his lungs thanked him.

She smiled under the water and swam up. He watched her, stock-still. Blair had just kissed him.

Well, she had given him air, but she had also kissed him.

Her lips had touched his. She was saving his life… Or prolonging his death. Either way – it was a good way to go.

She sunk down once more, and this time he grabbed her as their lips touched once more. But there was a soft intimacy about it that left them staring at each other before she had to go up for more air.

The next time she came down their lips lingered a bit longer on one another and, before he knew it, his hands were buried in her hair. The locks flowed freely around them, encasing them in this dream world under the water where she was his savior.

The fourth time after she pulled back he saw she was crying, and he reached out and pulled her to him. She stayed in his arms until both of them needed air and then went back up, coming down to blow air into him once more.

They continued the process for a good hour until he could see how very tired and weak she was. She was holding on against the current. He was weakening, too. When he felt her in his arms, she was so weak it frightened him.

When she came back down and blew into him, he grabbed her face.

He touched it, and she looked at him in confusion.

"Go," he mouthed. "Leave."

Her eyes went wide and she shook her head. "No," she mouthed back.

"Go!" He pushed her off him, and she scrambled back to him, going up and coming down to give him more air. This time he refused it, pushing her off.

She was becoming frantic and wild-eyed. "No, Chuck!" Bubbles were all around her.

"Go!" He looked at her one last time. His lungs were bursting and his eyes were watering.

She pulled up, and he sighed with relief. Then she was back down, catching him off guard, grabbing his lips and forcing the air in.

He grabbed her hands and stared at her hard. She stared right back.

They stared at each other, neither one's resolve yielding until she had to get more air, and that was when it happened. He felt the hairs on his head break out of the water. She came back down, a smile on her face. She pointed up and then pushed air into him.

Relief flowed through him. He didn't want to die. It only took three more tries from her before his nose was out of the water. Five minutes later, his mouth emerged, along with his chin. She was staring at him, still holding onto the rock.

They stared at each other.

"Blair…"

But he didn't have to say not one thing, not one more thing. Because she was on him, wrapping her arms around him and pressing herself on him and, before he knew it, his lips were hungrily tasting hers.

No water. No life-saving technique, but saving each other nonetheless.

Her small hands were in his hair, and he cupped her to him, holding her as close as life permitted.

She pulled back for air, staring at him, then kissed him once more.

He'd never felt like this before.

Was this what kissing was supposed to be about?

Was this the life force invented in stories? Was this… _love_?

He didn't know what to think, just how to act, because if he stopped kissing her he would surely die. All these images of her as a little girl, growing up flew through his mind. Her in pigtails with pretty pink ribbons, her in little skirts, blowing out candles, sad and dejected, in love with Nathaniel… Nathaniel.

Fuck!

He pulled back, looking at her, panting. She pressed her forehead to his, and he was shaken by the intimate act.

"Help me out," he told her with a confused expression.

She slowly extracted her arms from his neck and nodded, swimming out to get some sturdy branches and try to pry the rock from his foot.

After a good ten minutes he was out. They stumbled into the cave and sat next to one another, breathing in and out and completely soaked to the bone. He turned to her slowly.

"I told you not to go," she said, and he heard the tears in her voice. "I said stay."

He stared at her. "You saved me."

"I had to!" she cried. "You nearly drowned!"

"I would've made it!" he cried, standing up.

She followed suit. "Like shit! Because Chuck Bass has found a way to hold his breath underwater for over an hour! You must be special!"

They were now standing facing each other.

"I was making sure our home was alright!" he cried back.

"What home?" she asked, looking around wildly. "With you dead it would be just me! What home, then? Eh?"

"You would've been saved!" he yelled. "Then you can go home to your dearest Nathaniel!"

She blanched. "Is this about him?"

He cursed. "No!"

"It is!" she pointed at him. "Is this your sick-Chuck Bass way of beating Nate?"

"This has _nothing_ to do with Nate!" he yelled back.

"Then what does it have to do with?" she countered.

"You!" he pointed at her.

Her eyes were wide. "What about me?"

"You _belong_ to him!" he spat out, like she had committed some terrible crime that he would never forgive.

They stared at each other, breathing hard, still completely wet and still complete shaken by the events that had just happened.

_Give me a reason to fall in love_

_Take my hand and let's dance_

Then she stepped forward, took his face into her hands and kissed him. Kissed him hard, breathing him in – tasting him and just melting into him because she finally let herself admit that she wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anything else. She had been quite passionate about other things in her life, but not kissing him would be not living.

He easily lifted her off the floor, his arms wrapping around her small frame. Their kiss was so needy and hungry that their teeth clashed against each other, biting and nipping, hands everywhere, skin flushed.

She pulled back harshly and stumbled back.

They both panted, staring at each other.

Oh, God… He had… They had… What the hell.

_Fuck Nate_, he said to himself as he stalked to her with glazed eyes.

_Give me a reason to make me smile_

_Cause I think I forgot how_

He grabbed her upper arms and crushed his mouth to her again, pushing her against the wall of the cave.

She eagerly responded, when her feet left the ground as he pressed his body against hers, she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him in as he pressed her harder against the rock.

Her hands were in his hair, caressing his ears and neck as she moaned into his mouth.

She felt her entire body flush awake with desire, need, and something deeper – something she wasn't willing to say or describe.

He was the one to pull back now, placing her on the floor, his hands pressed to the rocks on either side of her shoulders as he pressed his forehead to her collarbone.

She breathed in and out, feeling his heat all around her. She brought her hands up slowly and wrapped her arms around his head, pressing her lips to the side of his face.

"What are we doing, Blair? What the fuck are we doing?" He whispered, and she tightened her hold on him.

She pulled his head up so that they were staring at each other. His hands went around her small body and they stayed in the intimate embrace. Their skin flush and alive, their breathed evening out.

"Nate thinks I'm dead… And I… think I'm a horrible person because I haven't thought of Nate for a long time," she confessed.

"_You're_ the horrible one? I'm supposed to watch out for his girl and make sure she's safe!" He spat. "And the only thing I can think about is how _I_ want you."

He pressed his forehead against her and they swayed there for a moment, still locked into each other.

They said nothing but their eyes never left each other's.

"Make love to me," she finally said.

_I wanna fall asleep with you tonight_

_I wanna know that I am safe when you hold me tight_

_I wanna feel like I wanna feel forever_

His jaw clenched and his stomach dropped at her statement.

Her heart beat faster than it ever did – more than it ever would. She knew things between them had already changed; to ignore it and pretend things were normal was delusional, and this entire experienced had ripped her illusions from the root.

The wind shifted around them and the rain continued, and all they had was a cave. A cave and each other.

No one was looking for them. Everyone thought them dead.

Everyone thought them dead, yet she had never felt more alive than at this moment. The horrible heart-stopping fear she had experienced when he was under water was still vibrant and alive in her mind. She didn't want to be without him. Her body didn't want to be without him. Her soul didn't. It was her entire being conspiring against her to want him and only him.

The way he looked at her, the way he held her hand, the way he had stepped up and stopped being so damn selfish, the way she cared if he had eaten or if he'd been gone too long when he went down to the beach. It was things like this… Things like the way he was holding her now.

They _fit_. They fit, and she loved it.

So when she said 'make love to me' she _needed_ him to supply her request.

_Needed it_.

His hands slowly cupped her face, and he nodded.

"You were amazing out there," he finally said.

Her heart warmed because she realized that for the first time in her life, she'd done something completely and utterly selfless and heroic. He'd made her be heroic.

Granted, it was his stupid decision to go out while there was still a storm, but if it happened once more… She would do it again. Without questions.

She kissed him then. Mostly because of the way he said 'amazing,' but also because she was in love with her boyfriend's best friend, who was also quickly becoming her absolute all.

Before she knew it he was kneeling before her, slowly sliding his adroit hands under her small and nearly tattered dress.

The material was sticky and wet on her legs and as he was peeling the material back, he slowly placed kisses on her skin, making her squirm and arch back on the wall. Slowly and surely the dress went over her head and they stared at each other.

They had been in underwear around each other various times already but this time the underwear would be coming off, and her heart sped up at that thought. This was it. She was losing her virginity to Chuck Bass, in a cave, during a hurricane.

It was too surreal.

His lips captured hers, and she was lost in the sensation. Their skin was cold and still damp, but it felt wonderful to counteract the heat inside of the cave. He pulled her away from the wall, pulled her to him, pulled her to the floor as they both sank into the ground.

And he was on top of her, kissing her collarbone, kissing the very top of her breasts, kissing her shoulder.

He unhooked her bra, and it easily parted… and then they stared at each other because there was no turning back now. Not a chance.

She nodded and kissed him again.

The monkeys were about to get quite a show.

_I wanna dream away with you tonight_

_We can go anywhere you would like_

_I wanna feel how I wanna feel forever_

"Chuck-" she whimpered.

"So fucking beautiful, Blair," he whispered against her mouth, and she felt happiness fluttering run down her stomach and into her naval.

And then his hands were in her panties, teasing her until she was wide-eyed and gasping.

And his hands were sliding her panties down and her own hands were finding his zipper and they began peeling what remained of each other's clothes until they were facing each other naked, on their knees on the hard floor. The wind created a soft soundtrack behind them.

She reached out slowly and touched his chest, running her hand down until she found his coarse curls, and he hissed, buckling forward.

To be honest, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about _it_ since she saw him in the forest. She'd been wondering what it felt like to touch it, hold it in her hand. Would it be warm? Would it be hard?

She'd never seen Nate's, but she had felt it through his pants and Chuck's looked… Well, it looked larger.

"Put your hand around it," he whispered huskily. She swallowed and nodded. Her nervous fingers slowly encircled it, and her eyes widened. Wow… This set him off, and there was a strange power-filled sensation that came with having him like this. In her hands, in her control. It was an aphrodisiac.

It turned her on more than anything had ever before, and she felt warm wetness between her legs, making her inner muscles contract.

"Lay back," he murmured between clenched teeth, and she nodded. As she reclined back, he moved with her. The moment her back hit the floor, his hands went under her knees, and he was positioned himself.

"W-wait," she stuttered.

He hovered over her, bending down and capturing her mouth, his kisses making her relax a bit.

"Relax, Blair," he encouraged her. "I won't hurt you."

He ran his hands from her thighs up her body, massaging as they went along until they were cupping her face.

She relaxed, holding onto his shoulders and wrapping her legs around him. Suddenly, he was entering her, and she arched up to meet him as the feeling of fullness took over her.

Her eyes widened and his mouth was on hers, suckling and making her forget who the hell she was and why she was laying on the floor of a cave. He captured her gasps in his mouth.

When he felt her relax, he grasped her waist and in one swift motion, he had flipped them over, making her yelp.

She was holding herself up by her knees, placing her hands on his chest.

She was a bit self-conscious, naked on top of him; she didn't know what she must look like from this angle. He buckled his hips to encourage her.

Slowly she became more comfortable with the sensation and between his experienced hands and her passionate movements she felt the lovely explosion inside of her, making her eyes roll back as she threw her head back.

A moment later, he was exploding inside of her. She gasped loudly at the feeling of it, her eyes widening.

She fell forward on his chest, both breathing hard, both still shaking.

His arms went quickly around her as he cuddled her to him. She pressed her face to his chest, kissing the spot were a reddish freckle smiled at her from between his chest hair.

His hand was buried into her hair, and he began to massage her scalp, making her sigh contently. Then they paused and turned to look at the family of monkeys that were staring at them, wide eyed.

"We have an audience," she said, trying not to laugh.

"First class seats," he chuckled, and she smacked him playfully before he brought his lips back down to hers.

"Round two," he murmured.

--

To be continued

A/N - More to come soon, thank you very much for all the awesome feedback!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6** of _Castaways_

Author: Isabelle

Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl, its characters, or anything.

Summary: Before they kissed, before the night at Victrola, they were going to meet Nate at St. Croix. That is, before their plane crashed, and they were left the only two survivors on an island with no other inhabitants. Chuck/Blair, of course.

Rating: Mostly PG-13, maybe R at one point

A/N – Always thanking my BETA, Tati, because she totally deserves a medal.

--

"_She tells her love while half asleep,  
__In the dark hours,  
__With half-words whispered low:  
__As Earth stirs in her winter sleep  
__And puts out grass and flowers  
__Despite the snow,  
__Despite the falling snow."  
__Robert Ranke Graves_

When he woke, he was sure his back would be permanently damaged. He stirred softly and blinked back. It was dark, very dark.

The small warm body pressed next to him made him sigh.

So he'd done it.

He'd taken Blair Waldorf's virginity.

Not Nathaniel Archibald, but _him_ – the one people suspected would do something like this. He closed his eyes against the reality, but her small hand moving up his chest made those thoughts flitter from his mind.

He opened his eyes and looked down at her. The top of her hair had turned nearly blonde from her time on the sun and her skin was tanned and strong. She was as beautiful as he always thought her to be, but even more so now because she had been his savior. She had saved him in many more ways than one.

She had given herself to him entirely – no reservation, no ulterior motivations – just Blair. That thought warmed him, because no one had ever belonged to him. Ever. Now he felt she belonged to him, she belonged here, warm in his arms.

His thoughts hardened.

They couldn't take her away from him now – not even if they tried. She was his now. As much as he was hers.

He tightened his hold on her, breathing in her hair that smelled like river water and grass. The winds were dying outside and left behind the soft breeze, the sound of the palm trees slowly swaying relaxed him. They'd survived everything now. Nothing worse could happen.

He closed his eyes once more because tomorrow would be a long ass day.

--

They woke as the sun greeted them early, at 6 am. He handed over her discarded dress; she slipped it on without panties or bra – deciding that those needed to be washed.

The monkeys that had witnessed their night of passion had scampered off and were most likely telling their family members all about the horny teenagers in the cave.

They said few words to each other, but not because they were embarrassed or uncomfortable. Simply because they were entirely too comfortable with each other.

He helped with her bags as she carried his shoes – one of which was ruined after being stuck in the rock.

"I might've broken my foot if I didn't have shoes on," He said as he grabbed her hand and walked them out of the cave.

She didn't have to say it, but he knew her greatest fear, after being stuck in the island forever was one of them being hurt. Because that was also his fear.

As they passed the river, they were relieved that it had almost gone down to its original size.

She watched him as he bent down and cupped his hand, taking water and bringing it to his mouth. She felt flushed. He was getting sexier by the minute; his body was tanned and he was defined from all the hard labor they had done. His back was rippled as he drank more, and she remembered with accuracy how amazing the night before had been.

She kneeled by him, drinking and them smiling at him.

He smiled back, and she kissed him – something she apparently loved doing because she'd been unable to keep her lips off of his since the moment they met under the water.

So they kissed as they kneeled by the river that had brought them together and almost destroyed them. They pulled away when their knees became tired and went back to drinking the water. It was the little things she noticed. Like how he would help her stand and take some of the bags from her shoulders. The way he always reached out to hold her hand. Before it was to help her in the path; now it was intimate. Like they needed to be touching each other in order to assure one another that they were united.

They walked hand in hand up the muddy and slippery slope, but she continued sliding down.

"Stay here," he said and quickly climbed up then came back down without all the bags. "I lost the knife," he admitted as he slid down.

"We'll find it," she said and let out a yelp when he bent down and picked her up.

Her heart gave a violent flutter as he began the trek up to the hut with her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed the side of his head, nuzzling her nose into his hair.

"You trying to sweep me off my feet, Bass?" She teased.

He smirked, sparing her a glance as he continued walking up.

"I don't want you to faint from the shock when you see the garden," He explaied.

She frowned. "That bad?"

"Let's just say we'll be having a lot of fish and coconuts for the next few weeks."

She tightened her hold on him. "We'll survive."

"Damn right," he smiled and set her down once they reached the top. He stood behind her as she sadly looked at their garden. It was destroyed. Half of it had washed away, the other half was broken.

He placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed, she placed her own hand over his and squeezed back. "C'mon," he murmured, and she nodded, following him to the hut.

They stared at their home and stayed silent. It was a mess. They would need to re-build more than half of it.

"Maybe we can make it strong… Maybe it needed to be destroyed because it was fragile. Maybe once we rebuild it and do it with stronger materials, so it can withstand any wind."

She stared at him because she wasn't sure if he was talking about the hut or them. So she nodded. "Yeah. We'll make it stronger."

They entered through the where the door used to be, and he set their bags down on the messy floor. She took in the mess of the bed, which was nearly destroyed, and the cracked roof.

She moved to shake out the cushions and have them dry out in the sun but jumped back when _something_ moved under it.

"Chuck!" She yelped.

He cursed and pushed her behind him. "Something is in here."

"Ohhh…" she moaned unhappily.

The animal moved under the cushions, whimpering.

"I think it's hurt," she said.

"I don't care – it's got to leave," he replied.

He reached out and pulled back a cushion to reveal a tiny baby monkey. With soft brown fur, a white face and wide black eyes. It was so tiny that it would almost fit into his cupped hands.

"A baby!" She said softly.

The monkey whimpered, burying its face into the cushions.

"Ohhh!" Her heart warmed towards it. She went forward, but he quickly reached out, pulling her back.

"No, Blair – it's got a home," he said, eyeing the animal doubtfully.

"But it's an orphan!" She cried, staring at the baby.

"Blair, please- no, Blair, stay away-" She ignored him as she squatted down before the animal.

"Hey, there," she said to it sweetly.

"For fuck's sake!" He said, running his hands over his hair. "It's probably got rabies!"

"It doesn't. You don't have rabies, do you?" She cooed.

The monkey stared at her with wide black eyes and let out a pitiful cry.

"We're not keeping the monkey," he decided. "We can barely survive on our own."

Before he knew it, she had scooped the monkey up and was cradling it in her arms. "Aww! Chuck, he's shivering."

"He's pissed." Chuck placed his hands on his hips and glared at her.

"No, you're pissed – he's scared," she corrected, rocking the animal back and forth as it burrowed into her warmth.

"_She's_ scared," he pointed out.

"She?" She asked, confused.

"If it's a he, then I'm worried – he's missing a pair of balls."

Her eyes went wide and then narrowed. "Can you not speak like that about the baby?"

He shook his head, watching her. Leave it to her to get attached to the dirty animal.

"She needs food," she continued. "Mush some grapes so she can eat."

He sighed loudly, very displeased.

Blair grabbed one of the dry blankets from the cave and went to wrap the monkey with it.

"No. Not my blanket," he said, trying to pull it away from her. She pulled back.

"She's cold!" She snapped at him.

"Not my problem!" He spat back.

--

They had no fruits or vegetables, no door and half a roof missing, but at least the ape was happy, he thought bitterly as Blair fed it some coconut meat.

The one thing they had was coconuts. Loads of them. Half the trees in the forest had fallen and, along with them, all the coconuts. It was the day after the hurricane and the weather was fantastic, the fish were no longer hiding, and there was an ape in his bed.

The animal blinked at him from under all the blankets that Blair believed the thing needed.

He glared at her from his chair, completely not happy as she cheerily mashed more coconut meat for the thing.

"You're so hungry, aren't you?" She cooed at it.

"Blair…" he attempted. "You can't keep it. You just can't."

"Can you stop calling it 'it'? Her name is Sweetie," she explained to him once more.

His jaw twitched as the animal began to fall asleep on his bed. And there was drool. He cursed.

--

"Hey," she smiled, coming up behind him. He turned, still very unhappy about Sweetie, but that was quickly forgotten as she wrapped her arms around him and smiled up at him.

He was cleaning out their garden, throwing all dead branches and debris over the cliff, leaving him sweaty, perspiring and glistening. Which meant Blair got turned on as he did manual labor.

He placed his hands on her hips and pulled her in.

"Are you still mad?" She asked innocently. She knew damn well that he was mad.

Not happy at all.

But Blair was happy; despite the mess around them, the monkey was distracting her, which was good. She had finished cleaning up the inside of the hut and the wet bedding was hanging outside, drying in the wind and sun as the monkey slept inside his messed up shoe. Yes, it was that tiny.

"Yes," he said, but kissed her anyway. "It's not sleeping with us."

"We're sleeping together?" She teased. "In the tiny bed?"

"We can rotate. Me on top of you, you on top of me," he smirked and she returned the smirk, leaning up to kiss him.

"Sounds comfy," she smiled, burying her hands into his hair like she enjoyed doing.

He had to pull back because it was going to lead to more sex, and he still had half the garden to clean.

"I have an idea," he said, showing her around the garden, pulling her by her hand.

"Look all the branches we have – I want to collect as much as we can and on the West Cliff," he explained. The West Cliff he called the cliff on the other side of theirs. It was empty and faced the ocean full on. "We can set up huge piles of them. Huge!" He continued, and she watched him, amused. "Then, if we see a ship or a plane we can do a fire run."

Her brows furrowed. "A fire run?"

"Yeah, you know, like they communicated in Lord of the Rings," he elaborated.

She broke out a smile.

"You _watched_ Lord of the Rings?" She teased.

His jaw twitched. "For the girls." Obviously.

"It was an all male cast," she smirked.

Oh, yeah… "It was a pretty good film, ok?"

She was still smiling happily as he continued.

"Back to the fire run," he glared at her. "Whichever one of us spots the plane or the boat will run to the pile of wood and light it up. The fire will rise and rise and someone will come investigate it!"

She smiled slowly. "Not bad, Bass."

"Who you think you're dealing with?" He smirked, and she laughed. "So we'll keep a fire going all the time, so we don't waste time trying to light it."

She nodded and walked to him, staring up at him. "What happens then?"

These past few days, despite a hurricane and almost drowning they had grown closer than ever.

"What happens, will happen," He said and nodded at her.

She took his hands in hers. "I…"

He nodded and kissed her forehead. "I know."

He watched her walk away and his heart burned because he was as afraid as she was of what would happen the moment they would be rescued. Back to the harsh reality, back to Manhattan, back to where he was Chuck Bass and she was Blair Waldorf. Back to Nate, to Serena, to Constance and St. Jude's… Back to everything that made them cold and angry. Back to a distant father and a mother that approved of nothing.

He angrily removed the debris and fallen branches off his beloved tomato plant because he loved that fucking tomato plant. Who did these branches think they were? Falling all over his things – if he was back home, this would've never happened.

Never.

--

She watched him for a while. He was completely unaware that she was still around as he angrily removed the debris from their garden. She bit her lip as she rocked Sweetie back and forth in her arms. She knew he wasn't upset because of the monkey; he wasn't upset because of the destroyed garden or the hut. He was upset because he was deathly afraid of what would it mean for them to go back to their life in Manhattan.

Would it destroy them?

Would they grow apart since the only thing binding them together was their desolation? Was that the reason they were attracted to each other?

Was it?

Was this that she was feeling a false illusion brought on by the need to feel intimate and secure with someone?

Were her feeling for Chuck really her projection of her fear of dying and loneliness?

It was too much. She was… Wow. She was seventeen. Her birthday… She calculated in her mind… Her birthday had been… the day of the hurricane.

Oh, God… They were completely away from all civilization, weren't they?

--

"My birthday was the day of the hurricane," she told him as they shared some fish and the last of the avocados she had saved before the storm. They sat outside, the air was cooler. The night was cloudless and the moon was full, casting a soft glow along with their small but strong fire.

He stopped eating and stared at her. "I forgot," he said quietly.

She nodded. "Me, too."

"What would you be doing on a day like that?" He asked, sitting Indian-style next to her. Sweetie was snuggled between his legs, one little hand holding on to his belt. She smiled dreamily.

"I would wake early, put some jewelry on hold, have brunch with either Daddy or Serena, and then get ready for my party."

He smiled at her. "We can still do it."

She stopped eating and smiled at him. "My birthday?"

He nodded. "The jewelry will be hard, but we can take a look at that kiddy pool I told you about – it's got oysters in it… I bet one of two of them have some pearls in it."

She laughed.

"Then we have the last of the sea grapes for brunch… And then you get ready, and we will dance and I might even sing."

"You can't sing!" She smiled at him, tucking her long hair behind her ear.

"I can, too!" He said indignantly, and Sweetie let out a mewl.

"What song? What song will you sing me?" She asked, giving him a flirtatious come-get-me-look.

He smirked and set a protesting Sweetie back into his messed up shoe. He turned to Blair and began to crawl towards her.

Their faces were so close that she lost her breath. "I've got you under my skin. I've got you deep in the heart of me."

Her smile faltered as he sang softly.

"So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me. I've got you under my skin."

He reached out and in one swift motion he stood them both up and, before she knew, they were dancing.

"I tried so not to give in. I said to myself: "This affair never will go so well." But why should I try to resist when, baby, I know you so well," he smirked, and she smiled, laughing a bit.

"I've got you under my skin. I'd sacrifice anything; come what might, for the sake of having you near." He dipped her and she squealed, holding on to his arms.

"In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night and repeats, repeats in my ear: Don't you know, little fool, you never can win. Use your mentality, wake up to reality."

He twirled her around, and she landed back into his arms.

"But each time that I do, just the thought of you makes me stop before I begin, cause I've got you under my skin."

He continued with the chorus, twirling her around the floor expertly as she smiled at him and danced by the moonlight in his arms.

He finished his song with a dramatic dip, kissing her as he hovered over her.

"Cause I've got you… under my skin…" he whispered under into her mouth, and she felt this strange sort of fluttering erupt in her stomach. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her forehead to his.

"Chuck Bass… is a romantic," she smirked, tucking his wild hair behind his ear.

"Frankie does help," he smiled, kissing her hand.

She was still staring at him in awe. "Who knew?"

"Now you do…" He leaned in. "And that's all that matters."

She laughed. "Sing to me again – I want to dance and pretend we're in a party and it's just you and me and-"

He dipped her as she squealed in delight.

"A dance floor?"

Sweetie mewled once more, in protest, at not being their center of attention like before.

--

There was no way she could back to Nate now. No way. No possible way. She had been so very starved for romance and being the center of a man's attention that the thought of going back to Nate's ridiculous excuse for affection made her sick to her stomach.

She'd actually been sick to her stomach a lot lately. Chuck had told her not to eat the okra… but she had been aching for them, so she ate them and now her stomach was not happy with her.

Of course, there was no Pepto-Bismol here. So she spent a good morning completely embarrassed in the beach, angry with herself and having a horrible case of diarrhea. She was also nauseous.

She had been so very sick that she didn't even notice Chuck had walked down to the beach and, with a Sweetie wrapped around his neck, he had sat in the shadow and watched her to make sure she was ok.

"I'm fine!" She had called out to him.

His response? A wave.

Ugh, he infuriated her sometimes. Why did he have to be romantic and caring and damn near perfect when he wasn't being stubborn and insecure?

It was a good thing he was around because once she was done, she felt so weak she could hardly walk. That had panicked him, and he had rushed into the water and picked her up, making her eat some coconut (she was sick of coconut) in the shade of the beach until she was strong enough to make the trek to their hut.

"No more okra," he said to her as they walked back to the hut, hand in hand.

"Okra is bad," she nodded, and he smiled.

Sweetie clung to her chest.

He stopped, looking out into the ocean.

"Fuck me, a boat…"

She turned her head and sure enough – in the distance was a boat.

"Chuck… Chuck! The torch!" She cried, pushing him to the hut.

He looked at her, three seconds passed as they studied each other and then he nodded, taking off to run up the hill to their hut.

She watched him run away and then turned back to the boat. Sweetie sensed something was happening and began demanding attention as Blair rocked her against her breast.

Less than five minutes later, Blair saw Chuck running down the hill and bursting out of the forest of trees, torch in hand. They shared a look as he continued running to the other cliff and she followed him.

The climb took them over fifteen minutes as much of the path was still filled with debris.

When they made it, Chuck chose the first of the piles of wood he had constructed and set it on fire quickly. The dry branches lit up and quickly made a huge bonfire.

The monkeys around the forest went wild watching the fire, but the two ignored it, their hearts too preoccupied to think of anything.

He looked to her and saw that she was as anxious as he. "Blair," he said softly and reached out to her.

She turned to look at him.

This was it. If they were found, they would go back to being _them_.

"I love you," he said. As if it were the last thing he would ever say to her. As if this was it. Their affair was ending. She let him envelop her in his arms and buried her face in his neck.

"I love you more," she replied, holding onto him.

They waited, they waited and they waited. Until the sky began to darken and the spot in the horizon disappeared.

"They're not coming, are they?" She said, above Sweetie's protest of hunger.

Chuck didn't say anything, just shook his head, running his hands through his hair.

"It's been a month," she said softly.

"They think we're dead," he finally admitted to her.

She nodded. "In many ways, we are."

Admitting it out loud changed things. It changed many things. He began earnest work, not just doing what he had to do. She began slowly forgetting the petty things that had occupied her mind so long ago.

The hut was fixed in no time, and he began making plans to do an expansion. She discovered that not all the books were ruined. One was even an old 1950's cookbook. She began using the herbs that were growing back to give their seafood flavor.

He found a few dead monkeys in the forest and, amidst many cries of disbelief from Blair, skinned them, holding back his own bile and left their coats out to dry.

Their clothes were barely more than tatters. His shoes were now forgotten, his socks ripped, and the only thing left was his boxer briefs. Those were also close to giving up on him also.

Blair's dress was nearly non-existent. She had removed it long ago along with her thorn panties and her bra. She now used Chuck's old shirt, sleeves removed, and his belt to give her some shape.

Her hair was a disaster, so she began braiding it. Every two days, she would wash it in the river and braid it – letting it dry like that and then letting it loose in bed. Chuck loved playing with her hair, and this made her feel attractive despite her barely-there nails.

There was one thing she could definitely say about this experience: she was thinner than ever. Not just thin, but fit. All the walking and the lifting and the physical labor in the garden had tanned her to an even golden color. Her locks were nearly blonde. Chuck was hardly recognizable. His own hair also turned five shades lighter and his facial hair was undoubtedly golden. His body was becoming more like a man's as time went back. Not an inch of flab and watching him bathe – the water cascading down his flat stomach always ended them in river sex.

He did try to shave, but sometimes it would be a week and she would start protesting about his beard.

She was able to identify five different trees and when the avocados began to re-grow, she had woken Chuck in her happiness.

They would talk at night, as they ate, as they looked on to the sky.

They would talk in bed, facing each other, terribly cramped but terribly close.

She would be sad at the stories about his childhood; he would be sad at how she saw herself. They would kiss and they would slowly heal.

She asked him once if he would go back to all those women once they were off the island… Years later, of course.

He said she was enough.

She fell a little bit more in love with him then.

--

Cold realization ran through her.

Oh, no.

She sat on the mat on the floor for the longest time until Chuck came back, two fishes on a string in his hand and the small cage in the other. He had been so proud of his cage; he'd made it from palm branches after he had found his knife, stuck in the mud by the river bed.

"Some Snapper, I think – and a couple of shrimp," he said, setting the animals down on their kitchen-type area. "I saw a sting ray." He said, shaking the water from his nearly blond locks.

He stopped when she didn't move or tease him on his increasing knowledge of fish.

"Blair?" He asked, sitting across from her.

She slowly lifted her head.

"Chuck…" Her voice was low and soft, and it scared him because he hadn't seen her this broken since they had found the cabin and Mr. Body. And that had been almost four months ago.

"What's wrong?" He demanded, shaking her slightly.

She let out a sob, and panic settled right into his stomach.

"I'm pregnant," she cried, against his shoulder, holding onto him.

--

They lay the way they lay each night, but there was a strange and different feeling between them now. She was facing him, and he was staring at her. Her still-flat stomach between them.

"I'm scared," she admitted.

She hadn't admitted she was scared since the hurricane when he had almost died.

His jaw twitched, and she reached out and touched the light beard he desperately tried to control. But the blade would go blunt fast, and it would be days before he had time to sharpen it once more.

"Me, too."

He'd _never_ admitted it. He'd been quiet and resilient through all of their drama.

She closed her eyes and let the tears she'd been holding slip from her eyes.

"Blair, don't leave me," he finally said, and she opened her eyes.

"What do you mean? I'm the one who should be scared," she said, eyes wide.

His face was something she had never seen. He looked downright vulnerable. I mean, she had seen him be vulnerable when he had been trapped in the hurricane, but this was completely different. He was scared for _her_.

"Chuck, what is it?" She asked, burying her fingers in his long hair.

He closed his eyes briefly.

"I… my mom died giving birth to me, and she was in a hospital," he finally confessed. "We have no hospitals… I wouldn't be able to save you."

His words resounded in her ears, and the same fear he was feeling melted into her. Because she had visuals of her dying in childbirth and of him holding her broken body. All alone with their child in the island.

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in. He gratefully held her, burying his nose in her long hair.

"I'm not leaving you," she said and prayed to god, or whoever listened to the voices of teenagers trapped on islands and pregnant, that they would _all_ make it out ok.

--

To be continued


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7** of _Castaways_

Author: Isabelle

Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl, its characters, or anything.

Summary: Before they kissed, before the night at Victrola, they were going to meet Nate at St. Croix. That is, before their plane crashed, and they were left the only two survivors on an island with no other inhabitants. Chuck/Blair, of course.

Rating: Mostly PG-13, maybe R at one point

A/N – Always thanking my BETA, Tati, because she totally deserves a medal.

--

"_It is besides necessary that whoever is brave should be a man of great soul."  
__Cicero_

He watched her, eyeing her all the time. Afraid she would fall, afraid she would eat something she shouldn't. He was so very afraid that it was making him moody. Making him be an asshole, and he knew it.

Yet, whenever she would get so pissed that he was sure she would push him off the cliff, she would tilt her head just slightly and 'get' where he was coming from.

So he started planning – just like she was planning her own things. He was planning. Because he needed to do something about this mess they had created.

For starters, he had to get them off the island. By any means necessary.

He couldn't risk it, no matter how much he told her he was ok with this all. So, behind her back, he began building a boat.

In the mornings she liked working in the garden, and he felt he could leave her there and she'd be ok, so he started going down a slope he had discovered.

There was a type of bamboo forest he had found and, using the falling trees, he began constructing a float. The first three weeks, he was pissed as hell because his attempts continued to fail.

He was shit at this survival mess. If he didn't get better and soon, he risked losing Blair. That thought killed him, so he persevered.

A month into his little project, she knew something was going on because she followed him. Smart one, that one.

When she found what he was doing they ended up having the biggest fight. Ever.

"What are you doing?" She demanded, and he had jumped back, startled.

"I…." he stuttered. "What the hell are you doing here? Are you following me?"

Wrong thing to say.

"Excuse me if I'm wondering where the hell you're going each morning!" She had shouted back.

"I can do as I please!"

Oh, he was digging his own grave, because the small little thing turned five shades of red in anger and got right up to his face.

"You want to do as you please?" She hissed, and he felt something horrible drop in his stomach. "Then don't bother coming home."

And he saw in her eyes that she meant it. She huffed and puffed away, leaving him with a bamboo in his hand and determined soul.

He wasn't going to apologize to her. She wanted to be on her own? Fine. He didn't care.

He wasn't going to catch her any fish either. She could just live off the avocados and sea grapes he knew were back at the hut.

Let her and Sweetie sweat it out. She'd come back, apologizing for her irrational behavior.

He was fine.

Once she saw the raft he had constructed, she would come with kisses and apologies.

He didn't care.

She could fend for her own.

He'd sleep on the beach or by the grassy area he had found. Let her have the damn hut.

--

She made it to the river before the tears started to fall. She sobbed by the water, sitting on a rock. Seeing her sad and disgusting reflection in the water, she marched determinedly to the hut and, taking out the blade, she began to chop bits of her hair off.

She sobbed as she did it - leaving all her long locks in a fray around her, her hair barely hitting her shoulders.

She cried for so long and so much that she fell asleep on the small cot that smelled like him.

She didn't know why she was so defensive; she didn't know why he was so distant and preoccupied. But she knew she was in the right – that much was certain. If they were going to raise this baby together, they at least needed to be able to talk peacefully.

Once they were back in New York, they could have join custody.

This made her sob more.

When she woke from her fitful sleep, the sun was setting.

She found the fire stoked and a fish all gutted, hanging by the door. The water bucket was filled with fresh water.

She wasn't going to forgive him.

--

So he'd gotten her fish and perhaps helped her small fire along. She was shit at starting the fire, she refused to gut the fish, and she would certainly not survive on avocados.

Ok, so the water bucket he did for his child because he didn't like her going up the hill with the water bucket full.

He wasn't going to apologize or forgive her.

But he did crouch by the bushes to make sure she got the bucket and the fish. When he saw what she had done to her hair, he cursed silently. Blair could be an extremist, for sure. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she set a determined stare when she saw the items he'd left for her.

"I still don't forgive you, Chuck Bass!" She cried out into the night.

Damn it all. She knew him too well.

--

He lay on the beach, staring out into the horizon. A few monkeys had drifted from the trees to stare at him in the moonlight. He ignored them, eating the last mango and throwing the pit angrily at the ocean.

He'd fallen into a restless sleep when something wet woke him. It was… The monkeys were restless. They were making noises he'd never heard them make before.

His thoughts – as much as he tried to prevent them – went to Blair. Her alone in the hut… But he knew she was fine. I mean, they had never been apart for this long, and usually by this time, he was buried in her, kissing her shoulder. But he could handle it, and so could she. She was a big girl… A tough girl.

Well, he wasn't going to go to her…

That's when he heard her scream.

He swore and his stomach dropped from under him as he blindly made his way up the hill.

--

Ok. So she'd hardly been able to eat. She was too upset. Too upset at him.

It was the longest they'd gone without the other since the crash, and she felt downright miserable.

The bed felt cold; the hut felt too big and the darkness around the forest seemed to want to eat her alive. They'd never been alone at night. At all.

She knew something was wrong, because Sweetie became restless. Blair told herself at first it was because Sweetie missed Chuck. But it was something else.

"What is it, girl?"

The small monkey had grown steadily in the past few weeks; growing stronger, and was now twice the size of Chuck's old shoe. She didn't fit in there any more. Sweetie followed either one of them wherever they went – never leaving their side.

Blair suspected the monkey sensed that she was pregnant because Sweetie's favorite spot was on top of Blair's belly. But tonight, on a night she needed the animal's warm body, she was pacing back and forth on the hut floor.

"You want to go outside?" She asked the animal.

That's what set the monkey off. And that's when Blair heard it. The monkeys…. The monkeys sounded different.

They were… agitated. As if they were at war or something. They hardly came up to the hut– once in a while, she would run into one, but they mostly stuck to the mango trees by the beach and the sea grapes.

Sweetie started going crazy, jumping from one side of the hut to the other, and she would've flown out the window if Blair hadn't caught her.

"Stop it!" She told her, grabbing the struggling animal.

She opened the door to see what was happening and, as she opened the door, this horrible shadow flashed before her. She saw an angry face and teeth. She let out a blood-curdling cry and attempted to slam the door when Sweetie flew out of her hands and attacked the much larger monkey.

"No!!" She shouted, paralyzed, as Sweetie grabbed onto the older monkey's face and didn't let go.

Blair panicked and looked around the hut. Spotting one of the walking sticks by the door, she grasped it in her hand and turned to the fight.

The fight was completely one-sided. The large animal grabbed Sweetie in its hands and before Blair could stab it or yell it pulled.

Blair felt sick, barely hearing Sweetie's last cry.

She felt tears clouding her vision, so she charged at the animal blindly and angrily. She poked it with all her might. The animal tossed the remains of her pet to the side and easily grabbed the stick from her own hand.

Blair blanched and began to back away. It was a large male. An angry male. Half her weight at least, but she knew how strong they were.

He stood on his legs and did a great show of alpha male supremacy, scaring Blair.

"You son of a bitch," she spat angrily. "You son of a fucking bitch."

The animal charged at her and she ran to the hut, closing the door behind her. But the door was made out of small branches sewn together haphazardly by Chuck. The animal banged against the door angrily, and Blair let out a yell, still shaking, still shocked. She looked around the hut, desperate for something. But Chuck had the large knife – he had it on the other side of the hill. Too far to hear her out there, building God-knows what.

There were the glass jars… The glass jars she had filled with seashells to work as rattles for the baby… Her precious jars. Not thinking twice she grabbed all three of them and held them in her hand, ready to throw them at him the moment he would burst through the door.

He banged more furiously on the door, letting out awful growls, making her stomach sink.

She grew desperate.

"Chuck!" She cried out.

Oh, God, let him be nearby. Let him be near.

"Chuck!!" She sobbed.

And he must've heard her, because she heard him. Her heart stopped. He wasn't crazy enough to go after the animal alone? Was he? Oh, shit, he was.

She heard him yell and, before she knew it, there was an awful noise and something slumped against the door.

The banging had stopped, and she clutched the jars to her chest. She heard Chuck yelling over and over and…. Was that stabbing noises?

She walked to the door and what she saw made her pause.

Chuck was stabbing the now dead animal over and over with his knife; he was full of blood and there was a mad expression in his eyes that she didn't recognize.

It was like he had gone primal.

And primal was what he needed to be.

"Chuck!" She cried. "It's dead! It's dead!"

He seemed to register her voice, because he finally stopped, breathing hard, knife in hand. Slow realization of what he had just done flooded into him, and he dropped the knife, staring at the disfigured corpse.

Blair began sobbing, because it was too much. It was all too much. They were just kids. They were just children.

Chuck backed away and accidentally stepped on one the parts left of Sweetie. He gasped, jumping away.

"He killed Sweetie," Blair sobbed, sinking to the floor, the jars still in her hand.

Chuck looked horrified, and then turned his eyes to her.

"Did it hurt you?" He finally asked.

She shook her head, her short hair falling over her face. She dropped the jars and opened her arms because she needed to feel him. In three steps, he was before her, pulling her up and holding her.

When she had stopped sobbing and he had stopped shaking, he had grabbed the body of the large animal and tossed it to the forest where he knew the rest of the monkeys were watching.

"You don't come near us!" He had shouted to the night.

Then, he had picked up the remains of Sweetie and made a hole, by the garden where she had liked to play and buried her as Blair watched on, eyes hallow.

"She saved me," she said to him when he was done packing dirt on top of the small grave.

He nodded and embraced her once more. He had washed the blood off himself with the water he had left for her that morning, and they crawled into their small bed, holding each other closer than ever before.

--

The days after the attack, they hardly left each other's side and Chuck began to set up protection. He was sure the larger monkeys wouldn't attempt another attack for at least a while, so he began working on making the hut sturdier. If there was an attack again, Blair and the baby needed to be safe.

So he worked around the hut, forgetting his project of the float. Live first, escape later. That was his motto.

Blair was still so shaken, she hardly ate. He was shaken, too – he should've never had left her; she could've been killed. If Sweetie… Poor animal. And to think he hadn't wanted to keep her. He'd wanted to throw her back into the forest. The flee-infested animal had saved Blair's life and the life of his child.

It was almost a week before Blair slowly became her old self again. She began by planting flowers around Sweetie's little grave and then moved to work on the star fruit she so loved.

Chuck watched her, concerned.

It would be another few weeks before she at last began to smile once more.

--

From what she could calculate, she was about four months pregnant.

She began with her old dress. She cut it into strips and a corner of the hut began to change before his eyes as she worked like a little worker bee. The dress was folded, washed, and prepared.

"Diapers," she had replied when he asked the purpose of the folded squares. He had shaken his head and walked away.

Preparing for the baby took her mind away from the awfulness around them. Sure, they'd made a home for themselves in his uninhabited island, but they were still vulnerable.

She noticed Chuck began working on weapons. She wanted to tease him – tell him he'd gone all cave man on her, but she knew better. He'd been the one to have to do the dirty work in their drama-filled lives.

She'd caught him watching as she bathed in the river once. Her stomach was now a soft lump. And it had made her feel attractive and feminine – something she hardly felt these days.

He liked watching her and her changing body; she was softer, rounder – lovelier.

"Are you spying on me, Bass?" She had teased him.

He came out of the shadows and smirked at her. He had nothing but a loin cloth now… His pants were tattered, and they had salvaged his boxers for the baby.

He dropped the loin cloth and joined her in the river.

"You looked lonely," he murmured and began to kiss his way down to her stomach.

"Girl or boy?" She asked him. He looked pleased, and she realized she had not talked about the baby since the attack.

He kissed her stomach. "Boy."

"Girl," she countered.

He laughed.

"A bet?" He propositioned.

Her stomach fluttered. She missed their bets; their scheming.

"A bet," she nodded.

"If it's a girl – you get to name her. If it's a boy… Then I do."

His eyes were dark under his almost light-brown hair.

"You're probably going to use Charles, Charles," she teased.

"I can get creative," he insisted.

"Deal then." She nodded.

--

Five passing boats and a small expansion to their hut later, she was ready to pop.

He'd honestly been surprised they'd survived this long; but she was strong and so was he, and they discovered they were survivors. Not willing to take anything lying down.

He fretted over her, nervously going back and forth, never leaving her alone. He was down at the river collecting fresh water when it happened.

"Chuck!" She had yelled for him.

His stomach had dropped, and he had made it up the hill in record time. She was kneeling by their new door, holding her stomach.

She panted as he reached her.

"It's coming… It's happening."

Nothing came. It was a false alarm. It didn't matter; he was even more scared now.

She saw it in his eyes. They were wide and pale, and he was downright petrified. He hardly slept, watching over her.

But they knew the baby was coming soon. So he collected as much fresh water as they could hold so that when she woke him in the middle of the night, grabbing his hand and letting out a grunt, he knew this time it wasn't a training exercise.

--

"Chuck!" She cried out, clenching her teeth, her hair a mess. A sweaty mess. She was lying on the floor, propped up by their old life vests, her legs spread as he kneeled before her. She had been in pain for over three hours. She was exhausted, he was sure she was dying, and it was all a mess.

That's until she began opening. The pain was constant now – no breaks.

"It's almost…" His eyes were wide. "Fuck, Blair – how are you doing this?" He asked, pale.

She was sobbing. "Oh, God, it hurts!"

He placed his hands on her knees and pushed them back as she let out another low-pitched scream.

That's when he saw it. A head.

He felt sick.

"I see it," he whispered.

She screamed once more and the head slowly made its way out, revealing a wrinkly face. Blair paused, breathing in and out, tears streaming down her face.

"The head is out," he said, reaching out with one hand and touching it.

Blair pushed again and the rest of the body slowly slithered out of her, Chuck held his hands out, holding onto the child. The body was almost out.

"Pull it out," she cried. He looked down and nodded. Some liquid and blood streamed out of her, and he was speechless. He reached out and pulled the rest of the baby out, making Blair sigh in relief.

Chuck stared down at the pink mess that was moving in his hands, his eyes wide, breathing in and out.

He stared between its legs, and there it was. He slowly smiled.

"It's a boy." He couldn't control the pride in his voice.

Blair sat up as best she could and stared down at the baby.

"It's not crying," she said fearfully. "It's not crying. Aren't they supposed to cry?"

Chuck didn't know what to do, so he reached out and handed the baby to Blair.

"M-maybe we have to cut the umbilical cord," he stuttered.

Blair looked panicked as she held the small baby in her hands. He scampered off his feet and brought his blade.

"Will it hurt?" He asked doubtfully.

"I can take it – trust me," she said, still looking at the baby, shaking it a bit.

He nodded and reached out, cutting the cord. He was sure he was completely disgusted with life.

But the moment he cut the cord, the baby let out its first wail. They both jumped, startled as they stared at the baby over Blair's belly.

That's when Blair began to cry, realization hitting her.

"Oh, Chuck – he's beautiful, Oh, we have a baby!" She babbled.

He could only stare as she touched and cuddled _his_ son. _Their_ son.

The small boy was crying out, his face scrunched up. He was completely bald, and Chuck couldn't see any of himself in the baby. Surely he didn't look anything like that.

Blair's face scrunched up.

"Something else is coming," she said, looking at him.

"What?" he asked, panicked.

He stared between her legs. The umbilical chord was still inside of her. _Twins_? He thought. Oh shit, they hadn't counted on twins.

She let out another push, hissing and out plopped this gross jelly-like thing.

"Shit!" He said, grossed out.

She tried to see between her legs.

"The placenta," she said, beads of sweat running down her legs. "Throw it away."

Now, he had touched some nasty things since this entire adventure had begun. He'd done things Chuck Bass would've never ever, in a million years or dollars do. But touching _that_ was completely out of the question.

"No fucking way," he said.

"Chuck!" She cried.

"Look at it! That's not right," he declared, and the baby cried. "Poor thing's been in there. I would cry from relief, too."

She glared at him.

--

The placenta ordeal had traumatized him enough – but when he threw it into the forest and it was attacked by the monkeys, he was even more grossed out.

He washed himself off in the water before climbing back up to be with Blair and the baby. He didn't want to leave them alone for long. He was going to admit he, Chuck Bass, was a bit addicted to his son.

He was only 2 hours old, and already Chuck couldn't think of anything else.

When he entered their small home, Blair looked so very tired, she held the baby in her arms while it suckled on her breast.

"How are you doing?" He asked, sitting in front of her.

"I'm happy," she confessed, a smile on her face. "But I'm tired."

He nodded.

"When he's done eating, can you take care of him while I sleep?" She asked, touching the baby's soft head.

Chuck gulped because he wouldn't know what to do with the baby.

"He'll probably sleep, too – just keep an eye on him."

Chuck nodded. He could manage that.

"What are we going to name him?" He asked her, reaching out to touch the baby.

"We made a deal. I lost. You won," she smiled at him. "Just don't name him something dreadful, ok?"

Chuck gulped. He looked down at the little person. This little person would answer to the name he chose for the rest of his life.

"Maximus," he finally said. Blair's eyes met his, surprised at his choice.

"Maximus?" She echoed.

He nodded. "Maximus Bartholomew Bass."

She smiled slowly. "Maximus Bass. I like it."

They looked down at the baby, who kicked his little legs.

"Nice, Bass. I though you'd want to name him Charles," she said.

"Would you have named the girl Blair?" he asked.

She shook her head, her eyes slowly closing. The baby stopped eating and made restless noises.

"Take him," she said, and Chuck reached out, taking his son and pulling him against his bare chest. It was the strangest feeling he had ever experienced. Up until now it had been Blair's baby.

Now, in his arms, it was _his_ son. Like he was his father's son. Chuck stared down at the baby, who was warming himself up against his skin. He wasn't going to be like his father, he decided then and there.

He was going to be a good dad. He would care for his son like he would care for Blair, no matter what. No matter if they were found and taken back to New York, no matter if they stayed on the island for the rest of their lives.

He would be a good dad.

He looked up and found Blair completely asleep. He smiled.

"Thank you, Waldorf," he whispered.

The baby shifted in his arms and when he looked down, he found a pair of wide hazel eyes staring at him.

"Hi," he said to he baby. The baby blinked, then closed his eyes and snuggled into his arms. He leaned in and smelled the baby because he had noticed Blair smelling him. The scent invaded his senses and he sighed. He was overwhelmed with how awesome he smelled. God, he smelled perfect!

"Maximus," he whispered to the baby as it slowly fell asleep. "You have no idea who you are, Maximus Bass."

He grabbed one of the blankets Blair had set aside for the baby and wrapped him in it as best he could. Once the baby was snuggled in the blankets, he laid him next to a sleeping Blair and sat next to them.

He watched over his little family, never going to sleep.

--

To be continued


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 **of _Castaways_

Author: Isabelle

Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl, its characters, or anything.

Summary: Before they kissed, before the night at Victrola, they were going to meet Nate at St. Croix. That is, before their plane crashed, and they were left the only two survivors on an island with no other inhabitants. Chuck/Blair, of course.

Rating: Mostly PG-13, maybe R at one point

A/N – Always thanking my BETA, Tati, because she totally deserves a medal.

--

"_Until the day when God shall deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is summed up in these two words,--'Wait and hope'."  
__Alexander Dumas_

"You know, I can walk just fine on my own, Bass," she told him as he led them down to the small kiddie pool.

"I know," he replied, still clutching her hand and helping her down.

"It's been five weeks," she reminded him.

Maximus was asleep, as always, in the small sling Chuck and Blair had made for him out of Chuck's old boxers. He was curled on Chuck's chest, snug and safe.

"Here it is," he finally declared, and she sighed.

He hadn't taken her to the kiddie pool before because he had discovered it when she was almost 7 months pregnant, and she had been under house arrest, as she liked to refer to it constantly. Now that she was back to the physical shape she had before the baby, he was 'allowing' her to go to the kiddie pool. As he watched apprehensively, of course.

Blair stared at the small, shallow pool. It was shaped like a Jacuzzi, overseeing the sea, and in the shade. Perfect, she smiled.

"How did you find this?" She asked.

"Exploring," He shrugged, helping her in.

The water was warm and perfectly heated in the summer sun, making her sigh and sink in gratefully. Perfect temperature for the baby.

Once she was in, he deftly took the baby out of the swing, waking him and making him cry.

"Give him," she said, holding out her arms as Chuck slowly lowered the baby into them.

The water seemed to calm Maximus, his eyes opened and he kicked a bit.

"You like?" She asked, pulling him to her chest as she sunk them in the water.

The baby cooed against her chest.

Chuck got in the water and slid behind her, pulling her to him.

"I want him to get used to the water," he said softly, touching the baby's cheek as Maximus stared at them with wide eyes.

The baby let out a drool on Blair's shoulder, and she kissed his head. He was still as bald as ever, with wide hazel eyes just like Chuck's and her nose.

Chuck, of course, didn't see any resemblance to either of them. He even went as far as theorizing that all babies came generically indifferent.

"He's got your eyes and lips," she had told him. He stared at Maximus…. No. He had said no.

Blair had shaken her head.

Now the baby seemed to love the water. He kicked his little feet happily as she held him out and had him float around. Chuck kissed her shoulder and smiled, leaning into him.

"I'm going to make the fires bigger," he confessed.

"I saw you, logging even more wood up there." She glanced at him.

"I was going to tell you," he said quickly.

"What do you think they'll say back home at all of this?" She asked, kissing the baby's little hand.

He studied his son's sudden interest in his hands, stuffing them in his mouth.

"I haven't really thought about that," he said. "My thoughts have been more along the lines of 'I need to get Blair and the kid out of here'."

She turned, placing the baby between their arms and stared at him. "You're a good man." She smiled at him.

His jaw twitched, and he looked out into the ocean.

"Do you regret it?" He asked quietly.

She studied his profile as their child shifted, holding out his arms to Chuck. Chuck easily took him, holding him against her chest and cradling the small head.

She looked down at Maximus. She loved Chuck—she truly did. And she loved their child even more. From the moment he was born. Watching Chuck with him did something to her heart she had never dreamt of. It did crazy things to her heart.

It was completion.

It was a sense of accomplishment.

It was a sense that this was what she was meant to do.

"No. Not at all. Granted, there are some days I'd like to forget… But no. Not you. Not Max. Not at all. Given the chance? I'd do it again… I'd have gotten on that plane with you."

He turned his head to her and studied her in that way of his. The look that melted her regardless of how much she wanted to deny it.

He smiled softly and nodded, leaning in and kissing her as Maximus splashed some water between them.

--

When Maximus learned to crawl, it became a mess. He was quick and agile and he was downright naughty. He would look at her with a type of smirk on his face and wait until she turned around and would quickly crawl away.

He had driven her crazy a few times.

"He's totally your son," she snapped at Chuck when the baby grabbed a fistful of coconut meat and threw it at Chuck.

Maximus looked as innocent as could be, wide hazel eyes and pouty lips. He was starting to grow a light brown tuff of hair that stood up, refusing to be combed.

Chuck's brows rose, and he calmly removed the white meat from his face.

"Well, I didn't accuse you of getting it on with the primates."

Blair glared at Chuck, and Maximus let out a happy watery laugh.

--

Maximus learned to swim before he learned to walk. When Blair would try to catch up with sleep in the morning, Chuck would grab his son and take him down to the beach, before the sun rays became too harsh.

Max loved it.

He would hold on to Chuck but happily kick at the water and make a splashing mess.

So when Chuck left him sitting down on the floor of the hut one morning while he turned to get some fruit from their garden, Blair let out a yelp from the inside and he rushed in.

And there he was. Maximus Bass standing on shaky, chubby baby legs, holding onto the chair in the middle of the room.

Blair looked beyond excited.

"He did it all on his own!" She cried happily.

Maximus didn't understand why the two people who cared for him went into such hysterics, but all of their shouting and jumping made him burst out crying because they downright scared him.

And he was being lifted and pressed against a warm flat chest and rocked back and forth. He calmed down, snuggling closer as smaller hands touched his head. Her face came into view and she spoke to him, and he sighed, closing his eyes against the hairy chest under his cheek.

--

"Stay here," she told him and he did as much of a glare as a one-year old could muster. She shook her head, smiling. "You're your father's son, for sure."

Maximus sat on the ground until she was out of view, then slowly stood, because it was his favorite thing to do. That's when a happy-looking creature floated by him with pretty pink wings and floated away.

He wanted it, so he went after it.

When Blair turned and found Maximus missing, she sighed. Since he'd learned to walk, it was impossible to keep him in one place at the time. He would run away, hide – watch her panic from behind a bush and do all types of things little babies shouldn't be able to do.

"Maximus," she called out, turning into the garden where he would usually hide.

Not there. She sighed and walked towards the cliff. Chuck had set up a fence with the bamboo shoots to prevent the baby from falling off it, but he was not there.

That's when her heart sped up.

"Maximus!" She called out again, running back to where she left him. Still not there. She went down the path to the river.

"Maximus!" She cried out.

Not there.

Her heart thumped in her chest.

"Max!" She cried desperately.

No sound except the monkeys. She quickly looked up to the trees and the palms – nothing.

"Chuck!" She began shouting. She knew he was out cutting chunks of wood for the extension of the hut, so she began running his way.

Chuck studied the piece of wood in his hands and then tossed it. It was too much trouble to fix it – he'd rather just get a new one.

He sighed and turned on the next tree branch, determined to get at least five more good pieces before heading back to the hut.

That was when he heard Blair's cry.

He stopped, senses on alert, and then broke out running.

"Chuck!" She was crying over and over.

He met her halfway, holding her arms, and the look in her face told him everything.

"Maximus?" He demanded.

"He's gone! I just turned around for a minute, and he was gone!" She was outright sobbing.

He pushed past her and began to run to their hut; she trailed him by only a few feet.

They searched the surrounding wood areas, the river… The river.

Chuck's eyes went wide. Maximus knew how to swim – as well as a 12 month old could – but he'd grown up around water.

He stopped, looking around in the river; Blair followed his lead and scanned the area.

"Maximus!" Chuck suddenly jumped. Blair followed his line of sight, and there was their son… Climbing the rock they usually dived from, following a butterfly.

"Maximus!" She joined him, running towards the baby.

Maximus stopped, looking at his parents innocently.

Blair stopped, staring at him. "Stop. No. Don't move, baby."

Chuck climbed the rock, and Maximus watched him with wide eyes, laughing, thinking it was a game.

He began walking towards the edge.

"Maximus!" Blair cried desperately as Chuck lounged towards the baby.

Maximus was ready to break out into a run when two strong arms grabbed him, startling him and pulling him away from his new toy (the butterfly).

He let out an angry wail and, before he knew it, he was being grabbed by his mother as she sobbed hysterically on him, scaring him even further.

The small family sat by the river, all holding each other.

"How did this happen?" Chuck asked her, eyes hard, once the baby had fallen asleep in her arms.

Blair's eyes were red and puffy, and he felt bad demanding this of her, but Max could've died or gotten seriously injured.

"I just turned for a moment!" She sniffled. "Just a moment, and he was _gone_."

Chuck sighed, running his hands over his hair. "Jesus, Blair… We need to get out of here."

Blair bit het lip and nodded, holding her baby closer, stroking his light brown locks.

--

He learned words quickly and, once he did, Blair was in constant vigilance of Chuck's colorful vocabulary.

"Shat!" Max spat out when his 'rattle' fell.

"Chuck!" Blair growled, and Chuck smirked, picking up the hand-made toy and handing it back to Max.

"It slipped. Once," he nodded.

"Onz!" Max gave them a toothy grin.

"I know it's been more than once," Blair said, peeling the mangos.

The rattle fell again.

"Fak!" Max glared at it.

"Chuck!"

"It was once!"

--

"Boat!" It was Maximus, and she stopped collecting the herbs by the edge of her garden. She quickly stood and looked beyond the cliff that Maximus was staring at between the bamboo shoots.

They'd seen many boats. Always on the horizon—none ever came close, despite all the fires they lit. The more time went by, the more she was beginning to accept that their only way of leaving the island was by boat… But Chuck sucked at building a boat and all of his attempts at constructing one had ended up in the bottom of the sea.

But her stomach dropped when she saw this one. Her heart sped and she quickly bent down and picked up Max, startling him – he hated when they did that!

"Chuck!" She began shouting. She knew he was by the river bed, so he would hear her.

"Chuck!" She looked back to the sea. Holy shit. This was happening. This was real.

Chuck made it swiftly up the hill, and they almost ran into each other.

"Daddy!" The little boy cried, and Chuck took him from Blair.

"A boat," she said, out of breath.

Chuck nodded. "I'll go light it."

"No!" Blair was frantic. "They're by the shore!"

Chuck paused, and they both stared at each other. Clear understanding was shared. Realization flooded into him, and he quickly took her hand, stalking to the edge of the cliff.

Sure enough, a small power boat sped to the shore away from the larger one. And there were… People….

His heart beat.

"We don't know if they're friendly," he said, seeing it was all men. He looked at her, her eyes were wide. "Take Max to the cave – wait for me. I'll check it out."

"But-" she stuttered.

He implored with his eyes. "Blair – I'll stay out of sight, I need to check them out first."

She breathed in and out, looking to see the man landing on the beach. She nodded, taking Maximus from him, giving him a warm embrace and deftly making it down the hill towards the cave. Chuck watched them go, making sure they were safe before he grabbed his knife and went into the woods towards the beach.

He knew the forest well by now, knew it more than he'd ever admit to knowing it. The monkeys stayed out of their way since the incident with Sweetie, and generally avoided them.

So he slunk into the woods, knife in hand, as he waited for the men to disembark and listened to their conversation. They were English. He waited to see the leader. A captain? He was a tough-looking man with a nasty scar over his left eye and a slight limp. He carried a gun, and this made Chuck's stomach drop. He couldn't go up against a gun.

He prayed Blair would listen to him and stay in the cave, though he knew Max would make a mess of things, wanting to go out and play.

There were three men. The leader and two others: one slick and seedy, the other large and built.

Chuck figured he could maybe take one of them down if needed to. Maybe the small one.

He listened to them.

"I see this as another dead end, Harry," the slick one told the boss. The boss spit out tobacco on the beach and took out a flask from his coat pocket.

Ohh… Alcohol. His mouth watered. He'd nearly forgotten the taste of good scotch.

"We still check, Jake. Made it all the way out here, might as well take a piss while we're at it," The leader sneered and shamelessly took out his penis and began wetting one of their sea grape vines.

Well… _Shit._

"Looks like a lot of fucking monkeys," the large round one remarked, then pulled out his gun and shot one of them down. Chuck cursed silently, laying flat out the ground, closing his eyes because the gunshot was loud and clear, and he knew it would make Blair panic.

Panic and make her think he was hurt.

_Stay there, baby, stay there,_ he continued the mantra in his head. His head screamed go find her and hide together because he knew she would venture out at the gunshot.

So he slinked out, trying to be as quiet as possible and started making his way to the cave.

"Hey! There's a fucker in the woods!" He heard one of the men cry out and this made Chuck break out into a full run, deciding instantly against the cave since that would lead them straight to Blair and Max. But he knew if he took them by the kiddie pool, he could swim from there and into where the river emptied into the ocean.

He heard a gun go off and he cursed, running faster.

"Don't shoot, ya' animal!" he heard another say.

He ran like hell, jumping into the grassland, knowing he needed to gain advantage there because it was an open clearing and he would be a clear target. When the kiddie pool was in sight, he jumped in and ran to the other side of it, until it reached the edge and then sunk into the ocean.

He was in 100 percent better physical shape than he ever was, the old Chuck would've never had a chance of outrunning them, but he could easily rival Nate in his physique now. Plus, he had stamina and agility. He quickly swam and hid behind a large rock, sensing the men were nearby.

"Give me a fucking, breather, Harry!" One moaned. "Wanker runs like the wind!"

He heard them panting.

"Where'd he go?"

"You saw his face?"

"How the hell? I was trying to dodge bloody bullets!"

Chuck tried to calm his erratic breathing as he heard them. Shit. Two gunshots.

Blair must be going ballistic. Shit. Shit. He needed to get back to her and fast.

He took a deep breath and sunk in, swimming quickly to where the river emptied itself. The swim went smoothly; it was the swim up the fucking stream and into the fresh water that always killed him.

Holding onto rocks and pulling himself up, he finally made it.

He looked around, trying to sense the men, but didn't. So he went up the riverbed, past the waterfall, and into the cave. His eyes were wide as he looked around.

"Blair?" He whispered, and his voice echoed into the cave.

He found her crouched in the dark, holding Maximus to her chest and rocking him back and forth, sobbing. The boy was also crying, her hand muffling his sounds.

When Maximus saw him he screeched.

"Daddy!" He cried, and Blair looked up, eyes wide and fearful.

"Chuck!" She cried, and they quickly held each other, the little family in the cave.

"I thought they shot you," Blair whimpered against his shoulder. Max sensed something was wrong so he continued shaking, pinned between Blair and Chuck.

"They tried to – but I'm fine," he assured her, pushing her long hair back and kissing her forehead.

"Who are they?" She murmured, staring at him still fearful.

"I don't know. They're British. They're looking for something, but I don't know what," he explained, hefting Max into his shoulder.

Blair held him closer.

"We have to find a safer place to hide, they'll find the cave eventually," He said.

She nodded.

"The bamboo forest?" She asked. It was the most secluded place they had found so far.

He nodded, but both were silent as they realized that they had to go through the grassland to get there.

"Max, baby," Blair turned to the boy, who was scared and wide-eyed. He blinked at her from his father's arms. "You have to be very very quiet. No matter what, ok?"

His bottom lip stuck out, and he nodded softly, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

"Good, boy – you're so brave, baby," she kissed him and wiped his tears. She took the boy in her arms while Chuck held his knife in one hand, and held onto her hand in the other, leading them out of the cave.

"Clear," he said quietly once they were at the entrance of it. She nodded, and they swiftly made it through the woods until they reached the grassland. The men were still there, trying to find a way out of it.

"Possessed, he is," one mumbled.

Blair shrank back behind Chuck and held Max even closer, despite the boy's obvious curiosity about the intruders. "Shhh," she whispered to him, and he nodded.

"That's not human, it ain't," the larger man declared.

"He's human, alright. Otherwise, he wouldn't have run at the gunshot," the leader mulled. "I gather he's protecting something."

Chuck cursed, his jaw clenching while Blair shook behind him.

"I think it's shite, Harry. There ain't no Chuck bloody Bass. Poor kid died in the fucking plane crash," the sleeker one spit out.

Chuck's heart stopped beating, and Blair's hand tightened in his.

"It's not our place to question if the fucker's alive, Jake," Harry, the leader, replied.

"Man just needs to let it go," Jake ground out.

Chuck moved, Blair whimpered.

"Stay here," he told her, placing her and Max behind a very large tree trunk.

Their eyes met, and she nodded.

"I'll make sure it's safe… If its not, then I will leave with them and come back to get you, you hear?"

Her eyes widened.

"Chuck…"

"Listen. If I don't trust the men… I will convince them I've been by myself. I will head to New York, and I will come back for you, you hear?" They were trembling at the possibility of this.

Blair's heart hammered in her chest but she slowly nodded. If the men were not to be trusted, she didn't want to be around them. They could easily be looking for them for ransom money.

She took in his face once more and kissed him passionately before breaking away.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you more," he responded and kissed Max's head and Blair once more held Max's mouth closed before the little boy could cry for his father. He gave them once last look and turned.

He left them the knife and turned to the men as Blair watched with wide eyes.

Slowly he walked out of the forest and into the clearing. All three men pulled out their guns, pointing it at him as he held his hands up.

"How the fuck did you get there?" The large one demanded.

Chuck just stared at them, his eyes never wavering.

"Easy, Pete," Harry said, putting his gun down as he took in Chuck's wild appearance. "Man's just scared and you with your happy gun don't help, does it?"

Chuck's nostrils flared.

"Who are you, mate?" Jake asked, following Harry's lead and putting down his gun.

"Who are you?" Chuck countered.

"He speaks." Jake smirked. "American."

"Name's Harry. Harry Whales. This is Jake with no last name and that's big Pete, as you can see. We mean you no harm; you just startled us is all." Harry came closer. "What's your name?" He studied Chuck doubtfully.

Chuck paused.

"I'm Chuck Bass."

_Damn,_ it felt good to say that once more.

--

To be continued

A/N - First off all, thank you so very much for leaving all the wonderful feedback and comments. I really do appreciate it and look forward to hearing from you all :) The stories still has a couple more chapters to do, and yes - I will detail when they reach New York.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 **of _Castaways_

Author: Isabelle

Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl, its characters, or anything.

Summary: Before they kissed, before the night at Victrola, they were going to meet Nate at St. Croix. That is, before their plane crashed, and they were left the only two survivors on an island with no other inhabitants. Chuck/Blair, of course.

Rating: Mostly PG-13, maybe R at one point

A/N – Always thanking my BETA, Tati, because she totally deserves a medal.

--

"_What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us."  
__Ralph Waldo Emerson_

All three men stared at Chuck as if he'd grown another head.

"Well bless me soul…" Harry whispered, wide-eyed.

Jake crossed himself.

Chuck shifted, his chin still high, as the only thought running through his mind was Blair and Max, Blair and Max.

Harry stepped forward, touching his jaw.

"Well, fuck me, boy!" He let out a laugh. "I've been searching for your bloody arse for three fucking years!"

Chuck studied him.

"_You_?" He asked derisively. "And who are you?"

Harry laughed once more. "You've got the largest bounty in history, do you know? Your father offered 50 million dollars for your rescue."

Chuck's skin felt cold and hot at the same time. "M-my father?"

"Bart Bass, right?" Harry nodded, taking out a celebratory cigar. "Light it up, boys – we found the fucking bastard!"

The other two laughed, delighted, hugging one another in celebration.

"Didn't mean to shoot at you, mate – scared me, thought you were the ghost of my old uncle Sally."

Chuck's brow rose.

"I need a phone," he stated, walking to them. "I need a plane here ASAP." He took command, and Harry raised his brow.

"Truly your father's son," Harry smirked. "Come on."

Chuck took a breath and followed the men – he still didn't trust Blair and his son with them, he didn't know them and he preferred telling his father directly what he needed.

"Cigar?" Harry asked Chuck.

"Scotch." Chuck stated.

"In the boat," Harry replied, smirking.

--

Blair watched Chuck lead the men away and sighed, but the dread filling her threatened to make her crumble. But she couldn't crumble; she needed to care for Max until Chuck returned.

"Where daddy?" Maximus whispered, his eyes still wide and red.

Blair kissed him, pulling him to her mostly because she needed to feel him close.

"He needed to go find help, he will be back – I promise," she assured him.

"Help?" The two year old asked.

"Yes, help. We're going home," she smiled faintly, lifting him up in her arms and walking to their hut.

--

It really felt like an outer body experience to Chuck. After three years of just Blair, Maximus and him, all the people around him made him uncomfortable.

He felt like he was drowning in their chatter: too much chatter, too many electronics around him, too much laughing, too much of everything. He had to close his eyes and steady himself.

"You alright there, mate?" Jake asked him as they approached the main boat. Chuck eyed him and nodded.

"We'll get you some trousers, lad," Harry nodded, and Chuck felt for the first time how ridiculous he must look. Clad in a loin cloth, completely tanned, dirty nails, slight beard and wild hair.

"Nature'll toughen a man up, alright," Jake shook his head. "Bet you were a spoiled lily before, eh?"

Chuck's jaw twitched and he sighed. "Limited resources," he said between clenched teeth. "The Gap was too far."

Harry nodded, studying him. "S'not right man going for so long without a woman."

Pete nodded. "Does crazy things to a bloke – like wanting other blokes."

"S'not right," Jake shook his head, and Chuck felt like he was in the middle of a bad ping pong act.

"Can you all be quiet for a minute?" He snapped.

Harry's brows rose. "Sure, lad. All alone, used to the quiet. Jake and Pete here can't shut the bloody hell up no matter what I pay 'em."

"But you'll pay us good now, wont you, Harry? Now that we got the Bass kid?"

Chuck's stomach churned. "I'm sure you will be graciously rewarded for all of your troubles."

Harry smirked and winked at Chuck. Chuck saw his yellow teeth that he was sure were reflected in his own mouth. "I aim to, lad."

When they arrived to the large boat, Chuck saw another five men coming to greet them.

"We fucking found him!" Peter shouted, and the crew let out a loud whistle, congratulatory hugs everywhere.

"I'd a thought it was a fucking myth!"

"Blimey!"

"Well… Fuck, you lucky wanker!"

"He's missing his trousers, Harry, that ain't right!"

"Get the lad some trousers, Ed," Harry said, helping Chuck out.

"And some scotch!" Jake put in, smiling widely.

'Yeah, put it on my tab," Chuck stated, and the crew went up in hysterics, laughing and clapping his back. Chuck let the laugher of the men around him wash into him and that's when he realized… They were saved.

"My father." Chuck turned to Harry. "I need to speak to my father."

Harry nodded. "Puts some trousers on first – can't speak to a man without his trousers."

Chuck got thrown a pair of pants and stared at them.

It'd been years since he'd had a proper pair of pants. His legs weren't used to having clothes on them, and he carefully slid his legs into them. He sighed, relaxing into the cloth.

"You need a shave too," Pete nodded.

"Call first," Chuck demanded, thinking of Blair and Max.

"This way, up in my cabin," Harry said, motioning the way.

"Get the lad a steak too!" Harry bellowed, and Chuck's mouth watered instantly.

Chuck entered Harry's private quarters and stared around. He hadn't seen so many things in a room for such a long time.

Books, maps, electronic devices, a bed (oh, bed!), sheets, curtains, a mini refrigerator, clothes, bags… He felt he was dreaming.

"Got to use this line, ain't got no signal out there." Harry nodded at him as Chuck slowly took a seat on the plush chair by the cluttered desk. It felt heavenly. He sighed.

"Haven't sat in a cushioned chair in three years," he murmured to Harry, and Harry nodded, spitting out his tobacco in an old filthy fishbowl.

Harry grabbed a land line and dialed a number, holding on, tapping his old pipe against the aged wood.

"When it all started, every bounty hunter in the world was looking for you… Now there's only a few. Kept in contact with your da' over the months, getting him progress reports."

Chuck watched the phone apprehensively. He'd be speaking to his father in a few seconds, and he didn't have the slightest idea what to say to the man. His father and he had shared, at most, five sentences in the summer before his junior year. They had grown further and further apart. The last descent conversation they had was at the brunch where the Serena mess had exploded, and that had been years ago… Lifetimes ago-

"Mr. Bass?" Harry said to the speaker. "Harry Whales here, sir."

Chuck heard his father utter a 'yes'.

"I've got someone here who wants to speak with you, sir," Harry said, and then handed Chuck the ear piece. Chuck stared at the phone and carefully reached out, placing the phone against his ear.

"Hello?" He heard Bart's voice and his stomach churned. He gulped, holding the phone tighter.

"Dad…"

He felt like barfing. He felt like slamming the phone down, swimming to shore and hiding with Blair and Max for the rest of their lives.

"…Charles?"

Chuck paused because he'd never heard his father sound like this… So vulnerable, so lost and hopeful at the same time.

"Yeah… Dad. I'm ok," he said carefully.

Silence surrounded the sound of Chuck's heart beat.

"Charles?" His father repeated.

"I made it out of the plane… I'm ok," he swallowed.

That's when he heard his father cry. A huge lump formed at his throat. He cast a look to Harry, who nodded and walked out, leaving him alone with his phone.

"_We're_ ok," he clarified.

"Charles…" His father said once more.

"Dad, listen. Blair made it, too… And I need a helicopter out here to get her out…" Chuck swallowed.

"Blair?" Bart asked, a bit more composed.

"Yeah… She's fine." He took a deep breath. "I don't want to tell these men she's here. I don't trust them."

"But…"

"I have a son. I have a son, Dad." He ran his palm over his pants, thankful at having pants. "She's with him. I need to get them out."

Bart was silent.

"It's been three years," Chuck explained lamely.

"Of course." Bart seemed distracted. "I'll have my helicopter there in two hours."

"Thank you… Thank you, Dad. And, Dad? Don't tell anyone, ok? I want to get my family adjusted first."

He didn't realize he had said his family, but Bart clearly picked it up.

"Is she ok?"

Chuck gulped and nodded. "Yeah… she's a tough one."

"And the child?"

Chuck smiled. "He's two… And healthy. Maximus. His name is Maximus Bartholomew."

Another nearly silent moment in which Chuck swore he heard tears.

"You have a step-mother," He declared.

Chuck paused. _What?_

"Lily. Lily Van der Woodsen." Bart cleared his throat. "Your step brother and sister will be very happy."

Chuck blinked.

"I'll have to helicopter there in two hours. I'll be on it, and I won't tell anyone. I'll bring some clothes for all of you."

"Dad?" He gulped. "Thank you."

His father's voice got thick once more. "I'll see you, son… And, son… I do love you, you know?"

Chuck stayed silent and nodded, hanging up, tears blinking back as he stared at the phone. He took a deep breath and stepped out.

"On our way, then?" Harry asked, standing outside, smoking his pipe.

"My father's on his way. He will be here in two hours. Send him the coordinates and take me back to the island. The money will be wired the moment the helicopter is on sight." Chuck said with as much authority as he could muster.

Harry looked him up and down.

"You've got the girl, don't you?" He winked at Chuck, and Chuck's stomach froze. "Hiding her."

Chuck remained stone-faced.

"I read the case file. Read it almost weekly since you've been gone. Man does crazy things for money, lad." Harry looked out into the ocean. "What's her name? Blair. Blair Waldorf."

Chuck's nostrils flared slightly.

"Smart thing to hide her. My men haven't seen a woman in some months. Been at sea too long." He spit out into the deck.

"Send my father the coordinates, and you will get your due," Chuck commanded.

"Sure…_ Boss_." Harry pushed himself off the wood wall and ordered his men to take Chuck back, informing them of the two hour wait.

--

Blair looked out to the boat from the cliff, her face hidden between the bamboo fence as Maximus ate his lunch quietly by the hut, still sniffling and hiccupping from his sobs and murmuring 'daddy' every once in a while.

She spotted Chuck boarding the boat and that was it… It was too far away. Her heart beat faster and faster. He was so far away… So very far away. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to the bamboo.

She almost fell asleep there by the fence when she felt Maximus' hands on her face.

"Mommy…" She blinked.

"Boat," he informed her.

"Yes, baby. The boat." She glanced down to the water and almost jumped up when she saw the little boat making it back to shore. Had they beaten the information out of Chuck? Why were they coming back?

Her heartbeat sped up, fully prepared to take Max and make it to the bamboo forest before they even hit the shore.

That's when she saw him, on the boat with just one other man. Once the speedboat hit the sand, he jumped out in… Pants. She smiled widely. _Pants_.

"Daddy!" Maximus spotted his father and broke out in a run before she could catch him.

"Maximus!" She scrambled, petrified.

She caught up with him as he was headed half the hill, grabbing him under his arms and pulling him up.

"No!" He screeched, blatantly upset as he wriggled against her, throwing a fit.

But that's when Chuck jogged up the hill, and she let out a breath of relief.

"Chuck!" She cried.

"Dadddddyyyyy!!" Maximus implored.

Chuck quickly took him from Blair's arms, hefting him up. They stared at one another as Maximus wrapped his arms tightly around Chuck's neck.

"Nice pants, Bass," she smirked.

He hid a smile. "Get ready."

Her face crumbled as relief flooded through her, and she was crying even though she didn't want to. She leaned into him, pressing a kiss to his neck. He held her close as Maximus looked on, disturbed by Blair's tears.

"No cry, Mommy," he said softly, patting her face.

They made it to the hut, looking around, slightly disturbed.

"What are we taking?" She asked quietly, tying her hair.

Chuck looked around. This little humble above, small, poor, and perfect. They had lived off it since they arrived at the island. Everything had happened here.

He'd built the door with his bare hands.

She'd put their bed together out of leaves and hanging moss.

The small little stove had fed them every day.

Maximus was born on the floor of it and took his first steps on it.

They'd fallen in love here.

"I want to take it all," she whispered, suddenly sentimental.

He stared at her. Where they going to set it up in the Upper East Side? Sleep in it each night? Maximus had never known any other home.

"Daddy?" Maximus asked, tugging at his pants. Chuck looked down. "What this, daddy?"

Chuck smiled and knelt down. "Pants. These are pants."

"Pants." The little boy touched the soft material.

"Your grandpa Bass is bringing you clothes, ok? You're going to wear them," he told him, rubbing his thumb over the dirt on his small pink cheek.

"Bart is coming?" Blair asked. Chuck glanced at her and nodded. "Everyone else?"

"He's told no one," he swallowed. "I didn't want them all attacking us."

Blair nodded, slowly sitting on their bed.

"Serena's my step-sister," he told her, and Blair's eyes widened.

"Lily?" She asked. Chuck nodded, and this made Blair truly smile.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing… It's just that we always said we were sisters…"

"Now you are," he finished, and her eyes looked bright as she looked at him.

"We're not married," she reminded him.

Maximus stood between his parents, confused.

Chuck's heart faltered at her expression. He looked at Maximus. "Go grab your things from outside." The little boy nodded, bored, and ran outside.

Chuck kneeled before Blair, taking her hands. They stared at each other. "You think I'd leave you?"

Blair slowly shook her head. "No… I'm just… I'm afraid."

"Look at me," he said softly, and she blinked at him. "It's still me. We'll get clothes. I'll shave. You'll wear Prada once more, get your eyebrows done… But it's still us."

She swallowed, tightening her grip on him.

"So the past three years we've been… _Stripped_ of what made us before… But we saw who we really were… What we're capable of. We're survivors, you and me. We've saved each other over and over."

She gulped, touching his face.

"And you're mine… Like I am yours… Like Maximus is ours," he whispered.

She pressed her forehead to his.

"We're more husband and wife than all the east side combined." He kissed her.

She pulled back and smiled at him. "I still want a ring."

He smirked, kissing her hand. "And you'll get one. You'll get the biggest one ever created."

She laughed. "No, I don't want it big. Something… Something classy… Something real."

He smiled and stood, turning to get Maximus.

"Bass?" She called to him, and he turned. "You're my Prince Charming, you know?"

Chuck reached out and pulled her to him, running his hands over her sun-bleached locks. "Waldorf… That's the nicest you've said to me."

"Don't get used to it." She smiled, nipping at his lip.

He smiled. "C'mon. Bart should be arriving soon."

--

As the small island came to view, Bart Bass stiffened. His breath cut short and he let it out. Small island. All this time, this is where his son had been. He tried to control his emotions, which had been betraying him since he'd spoken to Charles.

"_I have a son. I have a son, dad."_

That made him smile once more. He had a son. With Blair Waldorf. All alone here on this island where the two sixteen year olds had landed.

"There's a patch of grassy land ahead," the pilot informed him. "We can land there."

"Very well." Bart nodded, still staring at the island.

His son had made it. He'd made it; he'd survived, he'd cared for Blair and now had a son. His son was now a man, he reminded himself. He _knew_ Chuck would make it. No one had believed him. All these years, Lily still looked at him with pity.

But he would bring him back. Bring them all back, show the world Basses don't give up and fade away… They multiply and come back stronger than ever.

--

Maximus' eyes were wide as he stared at the helicopter.

"Da! Look!" He pointed to the sky, as if a miracle had appeared.

"That's a helicopter," Chuck told Maximus. They held in their hands small little bags of what they refused to leave behind.

Blair brushed back Maximus' nearly-blond hair from his face. "We're getting you a haircut."

"Where we go?" He asked, trailing after them.

"We're moving, baby," she told him, taking his small hand, but he began to demand that Chuck put him over his shoulders. Chuck handed her his bag and picked Maximus up, putting him on his neck. Maximus held on to his father's hair and his eyes fixated once more on the helicopter. He had a better view from up here.

"They're probably landing in the grass area," he told her, and she nodded, following his lead.

"He's going to be terrified," Blair said worriedly.

"Nah," Chuck countered. "He's a strong kid."

They stopped before the river and then the cave.

"I'm sad," Chuck admitted, glancing at Blair, who looked near tears.

Blair nodded slowly.

--

When they landed on the grassy area, Bart took a breath as his door was opened. He waited until the blades slowed to a stop and then exited the plane. Lily had called nearly ten times, and he had ignored all calls. He didn't think he could prevent himself from telling her something this big, so he decided to ignore it. Pretend he was in a meeting.

"Mr. Bass." His assistant opened the door, and he stepped out. Two other men with guns came with him because he wasn't sure if he could trust the bounty hunters, either. His son had some sense.

Bart looked around, taking in a small patch of grass by a small shallow sea water pool, trees, loads of coconuts… And then from the shadows, stepped out a man. A tall, lean man with long light brown hair (almost blond), a light beard, saggy blue pants, shirtless and perfectly tanned from many hours in the sun.

Bart cocked his head because it couldn't be… No…

"Dad."

His heart dropped. Where was his son? A young boy with an attitude of a bitter man, always smirking, in wild suits, bowties and drinking.

Then he did something that was uniquely Chuck.

He tucked his hands into his pockets and clenched his jaw, and looked down.

His heart soared once more.

"Charles…"

Bart took a step forward and pulled Chuck into a tight hug. "I always knew it… I knew you were alive," he whispered, overcome with emotion.

He felt his son's strong arms tentatively wrap around him, hugging him back.

--

Blair bit back tears as she stared at Chuck and his father from the shadows. She held tight to Maximus who was staring wide-eyed at the helicopter.

"Monster, mommy," he whispered to her. "Look."

She saw Chuck let go of his father and they exchanged some words, then Chuck turned towards her and nodded. She took a deep breath, standing up with Maximus in her arms.

Slowly she stepped into the clearing as Bart's eyes trained on her and then focused on Maximus, who had eyes only for the helicopter.

"Daddy, look! Monster!" Maximus pointed his finger at the helicopter.

"It's a helicopter, Maximus."

Bart blinked, staring at the child.

"Mr. Bass," Blair decided to speak up, greeting the man.

Bart turned and stared at her. She squirmed because she knew she must look like a far cry from what he was used to. Plus, she was in rags. Chuck's old shirt had holes everywhere

"Blair," Bart said softly, giving her a smile, and she unconsciously moved closer to Chuck.

"Dad… This is our son. Maximus." Chuck turned to his father, and Bart stared at Max with an open mouth, nodding.

"Max." Blair grabbed his attention. "Say hello to your grandfather."

Maximus blinked and turned to Bart, as if seeing him for the very first time. He suddenly grew shy, turning into Blair and hiding his face in her neck.

Chuck took a deep breath. "He hasn't been around people… Except for Blair and myself."

Bart swallowed, still staring at Maximus, who peeked at him under his little hand and when caught, quickly hid once more.

Bart cleared his throat. "The plane is in Nassau. The copter will take us there."

"Thank you, father." Chuck nodded.

"William!" Bart barked, and his assistant scurried forward with folded throws. Blair eyed them gratefully. Chuck took them from the man and thanked him. Blair handed Maximus to Chuck and quickly wrapped a blanked around herself, sighing as the material touched her skin. She opened another one and threw it over Chuck and Maximus, who eyed the blanket curiously. Bart ushered them to the copter, and that was when Max began to scream.

"No!!" He cried. "Monster!!"

Chuck had to hold him down and reassure him as they struggled to get him in. Once he was inside and saw that he was safe, Blair and Chuck tucked him between them.

Bart stared at the small family sitting across from him. His son, now a man and a father himself, handled his son better than he ever had. Maximus listened to his father, and it was obvious he adored him. Blair next to him looked nothing like the young girl he had known, Chuck's friend and Nathaniel's girlfriend… She was a woman now. A mother who was gentle with her son and very close to Chuck. He could only imagine what the two had to have done to survive all these years. Bad enough just the two of them, and then a child…

"We should be in New York in three hours… Good thing I was in Miami when you called," he remarked, and Chuck nodded to his father.

"New York?" Maximus asked, wide eyed.

Blair turned and tucked his hair behind his ear, and Chuck looked down at his son tenderly. Bart didn't miss a thing.

"It's home, Maximus," Chuck told him, and the family shared a look.

Bart had to look away because their intimacy was something he hadn't seen in many years. From anyone.

--

To be continued

A/N - Thank you once more, everyone for your continued support. :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10** of _Castaways_

Author: Isabelle

Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl, its characters, or anything.

Summary: Before they kissed, before the night at Victrola, they were going to meet Nate at St. Croix. That is, before their plane crashed, and they were left the only two survivors on an island with no other inhabitants. Chuck/Blair, of course.

Rating: Mostly PG-13, maybe R at one point

A/N – Always thanking my BETA, Tati, because she totally deserves a medal.

--

"_They are in love; they have always been in love, although sometimes they would have denied it. And because they have been in love they have survived everything that life could throw at them."  
__Ernest Havemann_

Maximus was not adapting well to the situation at all. He was fussy, whiny, and clingy. She figured he was adjusting. There were people all around them - Bart's people - that Maximus couldn't stop studying and hiding from. He also wouldn't let go of the blanket they'd placed over him. Blair had tried to take it, and he had pitched a fit. So he now carried it no matter what.

"Miss Waldorf?" The door to the bathroom knocked, and a friendly female voice sounded on the other side.

Blair opened the door slightly, and a tall blonde was holding a bag in her hand. A Lord & Taylor bag.

Blair eyed it.

"Mr. Bass sent this over." Blair took the bag and nodded, closing the door behind her. She sighed, staring at herself in the mirror once more. She didn't recognize herself. The closest she'd had to a mirror for 3 years was the river… When the waters were calm. Which was once in a very long while. Her hair was sun-bleached and long. Dry-ends, completely tanned into a permanent honey tone, flushed cheeks, and dry lips. She couldn't face her mother this way.

She quickly opened the door.

"Excuse me!" She called to the girl, who quickly turned around and came to her.

"Yes, Miss Waldorf."

"Scissors. Do you have any? I need some."

--

Chuck finally got Maximus to sleep in his arms when Blair went to the restroom.

The worst had been when Chuck had shaved, and Maximus hadn't recognized him. He'd thrown a fit. Chuck had to talk to him for the little boy to recognize him.

The feel of jeans against Chuck's skin made him itchy, and he shifted slightly trying to wake Max.

It had been a traumatic ordeal putting a shirt on Maximus. He was now finally in a men's small t-shirt, which was the only thing that he let them put on him. The shirt hit his ankles, and he looked like a little ghost in it. The problem? Maximus was not potty trained yet. In the island they usually had him in his little loincloth that he wet all the time, and when they didn't have a chance to wash it and dry it, they would just dip him quickly in the river. So he was used to running around naked. When Bart's assistant had given Blair a bag of pull-ups… Well… At least they were on now. After they had to throw away half the bag because he had ripped them off.

Bart had starred at him as he tried to control Maximus, who was acting far from the child in the island.

"He's not usually this fussy," Chuck explained to Bart, who was sitting across from him, still staring at a sleeping Maximus. "He's usually happy and running around."

Bart nodded. "It's like trying to get a civilized person to become a nudist overnight."

Chuck sighed, holding Maximus closer as his drool wet Chuck's own t-shirt, clutching his brand new blankie in his little fist.

"Have you called Eleanor?" Chuck asked. Bart nodded.

"She'll meet us at the airport," he said. "Harold is on the next flight from Paris."

"Did you mention Maximus?" Chuck asked.

"I thought it better for Blair to take care of that," Bart told him, nodding when he saw Blair walking to them.

Chuck stared at Blair and smiled slightly. She was in jeans and a shirt, but her hair… It was cut to her mid-back and she had tied it into a ponytail. She looked refreshed and happy. She even had on gloss and a necklace. And she smelled good.

"Thank you for everything, Bart," she said, taking a seat next to Chuck.

"Of course, it's my pleasure," he assured her.

Maximus sensed his mother and opened his eyes.

"Mommy," he turned, reaching for her. Blair quickly took him, pulling him against her chest as he cuddled, smelling his blankie and quickly going to sleep.

"Eleanor will be meeting us at the airport, and your father is on his way to the states," Bart told her. Blair quickly looked at Chuck, who reached out and took her hand. He paused. Her hand was smooth. She'd put lotion on it.

They all fell silent.

"How did you make it?" Bart finally asked the one question he'd been dying to know the answer to.

Chuck shifted and turned to his father.

"We… Ah… We were the only ones who survived when the plane landed on the water." He explained slowly.

Bart nodded, knowing this so far.

"So I sent the call out…"

Bart nodded. "We got it."

"We jumped into the water before the plane sunk," Blair put in. "Well… Chuck made me."

They exchanged a glance, and Bart looked slightly taken aback.

"Then we swam out as it sunk… Almost got eaten by a shark," Chuck continued.

"Oh! The shark!" Blair smiled.

Chuck chuckled. Bart blanched.

"And then we swam until we found the island," Chuck finished.

Blair looked at Bart. "We've been there ever since."

Bart nodded. "Quite an adventure."

"We didn't realize it was deserted until the next morning," Chuck explained.

"How did you manage to survive?" Bart asked them, taking them in.

"We did what we had to do," Chuck finished, not wanting to talk about it anymore.

Bart studied them; he was sure they must've gone through hell, almost dying on many occasions; he could see why they had ended up together after all they went through. It wouldn't be easy for them; it would be damn hard getting adjusted once more to the city life.

"I've set up a suite for you," he explained. "Should be comfortable for all three."

Blair shifted and chuckled slightly. "We've shared the same bed for so long, I'm sure Maximus will throw a fit."

Bart looked at his grandchild, sleeping restfully on Blair.

"Was everything… Ok… When he was born?" he asked quietly.

Chuck looked on at his father and swallowed. "Y-yes… He was born healthy."

"Granted, we didn't really know what we were doing –"

"You were great," Chuck put in.

"But we figured it out…" Blair smiled at Chuck.

Bart let out a small chuckle, looking on at them. "Amazing… Just amazing. Well… From now on, you will have everything you need. I promise."

Blair smiled gratefully at Bart as Chuck stared at his dad.

"Mr. Bass," Bart's assistant interrupted them. "The money has been transferred, sir… But a bulletin has been put out… One of the men in the boat called The Sun, and they're intending on publishing the story."

Bart glanced at the small family before him, Blair's eyes were wide and she held Maximus closer, while Chuck's nostrils flared, instinctively leaning forward in protector mode.

"Call our contacts, hack the story, and give Harry a call. Tell him I will retract the funds for breach of contact if he can't control his crew," Bart barked. The assistant nodded and scampered off. He turned to his son. "We can only control the story for so long; I suggest we call your friends the moment you arrive."

Blair swallowed and nodded, running her hands over Maximus' tangled hair.

--

She shifted nervously as the plane landed, watching it through her sunglasses. The sun was softly setting when the doors opened and down the plane came some assistants, Bart Bass and…

Her breath caught in her throat. She'd always resented Bart for his endless pursuit of his son when she firmly believed Blair to be dead. Because Blair dead was better than Blair lost, and she hadn't known how to get her daughter back.

She felt tears prickle her eyes as her daughter looked at her, halfway down the steps. She quickly stepped forward, her heart beating and her nerves shot.

Blair quickly descended the steps and, before she knew it, she had thrown herself on her. Eleanor was a stiff, cold woman. She'd learned to be so in order to survive in this business world she lived in. But feeling her daughter in her arms once more made her crumble.

She pulled her back to stare at her – to make sure she was real. Same eyes, same lips, same button nose, she let out a laugh and kissed her. Her baby was just fine. Just fine.

"Mom," Blair said, teary-eyed.

"Oh, Blair…." She held her closer. "I thought you were dead…"

She looked so… grown…

Blair sighed, pulling back and looking behind her. Eleanor noticed the once young Chuck Bass… Now a man. He'd saved her daughter; she felt an overwhelming need to hug him. If it hadn't been for Bart's incessant search, they would've stayed lost.

She turned to Bart. "Thank you. Thank you for never giving up."

Bart nodded, stiff as always as he stood by.

"Mom…" Blair said carefully. Eleanor studied the child in Chuck's arm. The child was slowly waking from his plane name and was looking around, curious, and never letting go of his blanket.

Eleanor paused…

"This is my son… _our_ son… Maximus." Blair stood by Chuck.

Chuck studied her unabashed.

"Your…" Eleanor was at loss for words, staring at the small child who seemed to have noticed her.

"… Son… Your grandson." Blair reiterated.

"But… you were on an island…" Eleanor couldn't wrap her mind around it.

"Mommy," Maximus reached out for Blair, and Blair took him from Chuck, hefting him up on her hip.

Eleanor stared at Chuck, then back at Blair.

"But…You're not married!" She cried.

Bart tried not to laugh while Blair's face went pink red, and Chuck ducked his head, clearly smiling.

"What married?" Maximus asked innocently.

--

Bart suggested that Blair, Chuck, and Maximus ride in a separate car while Eleanor and himself rode in another. Mostly because Eleanor was making no sense.

Maximus was now fully awake with his small face pressed to the window, his eyes wide as he studied the city around him. Blair and Chuck were sitting as close as two people could, watching Maximus' reactions.

"Look! Look!" He would say, pointing at all types of things.

The young couple held hands tightly; taking in the city they had once considered their home.

"I feel like I've just woken up from a dream," she told him as he held on to Maximus' waist. Chuck nodded, kissing his son's head as Maximus turned to them and sat on Chuck's lap, throwing the blanket over himself.

"Maximus, give me the blanket," Blair suggested.

He screamed when she tried to take it.

"Or keep it."

"Let him keep it."

"Mine!"

--

They discretely made it into the building, Maximus' wide eyes taking in the grandeur of the lobby as they made it to the elevator. Chuck had wanted to carry him, but he insisted on walking and tripped a few times on his overly large shirt.

Eleanor kept glancing at him as he held onto Blair's hand.

When they all entered the elevator, all Maximus said was 'Wow, daddy – look!' at the buttons… Then he pressed all of them, much to Eleanor's annoyance.

Chuck thought it was hilarious. It took them almost fifteen minutes to make it to the top.

"So… You gave birth in the island?" Eleanor asked Blair quietly when floor 11 closed.

"Y-yes," Blair replied, glancing at her.

Eleanor nodded, looking at her. "I don't remember when you were born. It was a cesarean, and I was out…"

"Oh… I remember, alright," Blair deadpanned, running her hands over Maximus' hair.

"What did you do for food?" Eleanor asked, slightly horrified.

"We had a garden," Chuck put in. Eleanor stared at him.

"And Chuck fished… And caught shrimp, crabs, eels… Whatever we found."

"Shrimp!" Maximus smiled up at them.

Bart stared at him. "He likes shrimp?"

"He _loves_ shrimp," Blair clarified.

"Shrimp! I hungry, daddy…" Maximus complained, tugging at Chuck's pants.

Bart quickly pulled his cell. "Have some shrimp delivered to the apartment."

"Just boiled," Blair told him. "No condiments."

Bart nodded, passing the instructions to his staff.

"Soon," Chuck told Maximus when he picked him up and finally opened to the Bass suite.

"We moved into this place right after the wedding," Bart explained. The small family entered and looked around. Fancy paintings, plush carpet, chandeliers, A-line furniture.

"Lily did a wonderful job," Eleanor nodded, approving. She took Blair to the side as Bart showed Chuck around.

"My dear," she started. "_Wonderful_ choice," she complimented Blair, smiling.

Blair blinked at her. "What?"

"A Bass?" Eleanor smiled discretely. "The Archibalds have completely gone under, not a penny left. The Basses' fortune has increased to almost twice the amount they had less than two years ago. Granted, they're new money, but still…"

Blair sighed, pressing her fingers to her forehead.

"Mom, I was in a _plane crash_," Blair snapped. "I swam to shore, ate things I never wanted to even consider, killed for food, survived almost drowning, a hurricane, and childbirth _au natural_ – the last thing on my mind was Chuck's billions."

Eleanor was wide-eyed. "Y-you killed for food?"

Blair let out a breath. "Yes, mom! I wasn't at a resort!"

Eleanor stared at her, wide-eyed. "That explains the hair and eyebrows."

"Mother!" Blair hissed exasperatedly.

"Don't worry, I will have Donato and his staff come over in the morning, he's extremely discreet – How about 9:30am?" Eleanor was already pulling her blackberry out.

"I'll let you know," Blair nodded when the elevator opened and out rushed a mane of long blonde hair.

Before Blair had a chance to react, to recognize or to hide, Serena was on top of her, sobbing, crying, hugging, kissing – her.

Blair, of course hugged right back, holding her friend. She'd seriously missed female companionship. Chuck never understood her PMS moods.

"B!" Serena was babbling. "We all thought you were dead, and Bart kept believing Chuck was – Oh, my God, where's Chuck?"

Blair smiled at Serena, touching her face.

"Hello, dear sister." Out walked Chuck with Maximus in his arms, falling asleep.

Serena let out a high-pitched cry and flung her arms around him.

"I can't believe you made it, you bastard!"

This startled Maximus, who burst out crying, and Blair quickly took him, leaving Serena stunned. She stared at Chuck.

"You have a baby?" She asked Chuck. More like poked him, glaring at him.

Chuck smirked because Serena was dim sometimes.

"I can't believe you impregnated a native!"

"Uhmm…" Blair cleared her throat. "S… This is Maximus… _Our_ son."

Serena stood back, staring at them, and then staring at Maximus, who was rubbing his eyes with his blankie and hiccupping slightly.

"Maximus," Max informed Serena before leaning his head on Blair's shoulder.

Serena stared at the little boy, then at Chuck, and then back at Blair.

"You…" She pointed at Chuck. "You knocked her up?!" She hit him with her clutch, which Chuck reflexively grabbed from her in a swift move acquired from grabbing fish from the kiddie pool.

Serena gasped, and Chuck looked sorry. "I'm sorry." He handed her the purse back.

Serena breathed in and out, staring at them. They looked so… _different. _Sun-bleached hair, tanned skin, lean and long, _closer_ and more _intimate._

Chuck and Blair always had an unusual understanding. They enjoyed a lot of the same things, and that meant plotting, destroying, deceiving, and various types of social annihilation. They collected secrets and sold them to the highest bidder or for their own personal agenda. But she'd never seen them this way.

She looked at Maximus and Blair's hand as she held his head… And Chuck's stance of… _Protector_… It was too much.

"Oh, my God!"

"Get her a drink," Chuck smiled.

"Maybe two," Serena cried, sitting down.

--

The girls sat across from each other, Serena holding a glass of Frangelico and still staring at Blair wide-eyed.

"So… We landed on the beach… And we were in the island ever since…" Blair finished, rubbing her eyes. She was exhausted and ready for bed.

Serena gulped the rest of her glass.

"And what about Chuck?" She asked.

"What about him?" Blair asked, confused.

"Hello!" Serena waived her hand. "You have his son!"

Blair nodded. "Oh…"

"Yeah…"

"… We were just trying to survive one moment, and the next…" Blair looked down. "… Serena... there are things that we did and saw that only we would understand."

Serena reached out and took Blair's hands, and the girls stared at each other.

"He's more than a friend, or a boyfriend… Lover and… Husband…" Blair swallowed. "… He's my partner… My mate…"

Serena's eyes watered as she nodded, getting up and sitting next to Blair.

"He and Max are my everything… so…" Blair stared at her.

"You're so grown up, Blair…" Serena pulled her into a hug.

They were interrupted by Chuck, who was carrying Maximus wrapped in a towel and wet.

"Well… He loves baths," Chuck nodded. Maximus instantly spotted his mom and reached out for her. Serena watched as Blair stood and took him from Chuck. The small little family stood close by, sharing an intimacy Serena had never witnessed.

"He's been fussy…" Blair said, touching Maximus' forehead.

"Nah… He's just tired and confused," Chuck replied. "He won't put on his diaper."

"Nooo…" Maximus complained.

"Yes," Blair insisted and took the pull-up from Chuck. She set him on the bed, and between them, they slipped it on, leaving Max upset and needing his brand new toy – the blankie. Next Chuck handed her another white t-shirt, the only thing he'd wear, and after a struggle they slipped it past his head.

Serena felt uncomfortable so she stood. "I'm going tot head out… I have an apartment in Soho…"

Chuck picked Max up and turned to her. "Soho?" He smirked. She rolled her eyes.

"I was going to attend Brown, but I got a modeling contract…" She confessed. "… So I've stayed in the city."

Blair smiled at her. "You look good, S. You really do."

Serena stared at her, because despite their friendship throughout the years, Blair was never one to throw out a compliment, a genuine compliment. Most especially to her. Blair threw compliments as a mercy. She would throw them at people she considered below her. Never to Serena.

The Chuck leaned in and kissed Blair's head, making her smile at him.

Serena felt a warm sensation in her stomach. They looked happy, content and at peace together.

"You guys have a beautiful little family… I'm happy, Blair. It's what you always wanted," Serena confessed, and Max stared at her with his wide eyes.

"Kiss," he told her and reached out a hand to her, flexing his fingers.

Serena looked at Blair questioningly. Blair and Chuck looked surprised. Maximus hadn't really taken to anyone at all. Her stared at Bart from behind his hand, and he simply studied Eleanor. Now he was asking for the customary goodnight kiss he always got from his parents.

"He… He wants a goodnight kiss," Blair explained to Serena, still confused.

"Oh!" Serena looked nervous. She walked slowly to them. "Well, he is my nephew…"

She smiled a little at Chuck, who was still registering that Serena was his step-sister. She leaned in, and Maximus kissed her cheek then smiled shyly and pressed his face against Chuck's neck.

"Oh, my God, he's so cute!" Serena's heart melted. "Oh, let me buy him things."

"He doesn't need things," Blair laughed.

"He does! Toys, Dan and I will go toy shopping; it'll be so much fun!" Serena looked extremely excited.

Chuck looked leery. "He's not used to them, we… We made his own rattles."

Serena stared at him, unsure if to believe him and be impressed, or to be sorry for the entire situation. Maybe if they had all joined Bart in his search, then they would've found them sooner. Maybe the baby wouldn't have needed to grow up with home-made rattles.

"Oh…"

"Toys," Maximus repeated.

"You see? He wants some. I'm so going to spoil him!" She smiled at them happily.

Blair shifted. "Ok. But not a lot. Just a few. I don't want to overwhelm him."

Serena nodded enthusiastically. "Only a few."

When Serena left (after Maximus insisted that she kiss him again), Blair went to look for the clothes her mother left her. Chuck went to attempt to put Maximus to sleep in the bed they all shared.

She was going through a couple of bags from Bergdorf, feeling that everything was too over the top. Did she really used to wear all this? She found lace dresses, stockings, headbands, La Perla bras, silk shirts… She couldn't decide what to wear. It was overwhelming. When the door to the room opened she thought it was Chuck, having accomplished the mission of getting Maximus to bed.

"My mother is crazy. She sent me all these bags… Look at this…" She held up a beautiful pair of panties and showed it to him.

That's when she realized it was not Chuck at all, but Nate.

Nate was standing there in all of this golden glory, tousled hair, bright blue eyes, tall and built, and as handsome as ever.

"Blair…" he whispered.

She quickly put down the panties and gulped. "I'm sorry. I thought you were…"

"You're alive. You're really alive," he whispered, eyes still wide and unbelieving.

Blair gulped again and looked down.

"Nate," she greeted him.

She knew this was going to come; she knew they would eventually have to face Nate. Make him understand. Assure him of the circumstance. She knew Chuck had always loved his best friend, and it would kill her to know that he would lose Nate because of her.

"Oh, my God, Blair…" And in three steps, he had grabbed her and hugged her.

She stood there, stock-still, not knowing what to do and trying to resist pushing him clear off her body – no man had held her like this in three years, except for Chuck. He felt wrong. Too tall, too big… He wasn't Chuck.

She breathed in sharply and patted his back.

He pulled back and looked down at her, studying her.

"You look so different… Your hair… Your eyes…" He was shaking his head.

"It's still me, Nate." She gave him a tight smile.

"I'm so sorry. I've been sorry since the day it happened." He looked choked up.

Blair's brows furrowed. "Sorry for what?"

"I missed the flight… And it was something stupid…" he confessed. "I wanted a _break…_ I didn't want to be near you for a while, and I figured I could have a few hours without you, and then meet you both there…"

Blair pulled back, stung.

"You were just being so clingy and needy, and I didn't… I was stupid and young, and I have regretted it every day since, Blair. You have to believe me."

Blair stared at him.

"I don't regret, it" she confessed.

He blinked.

"I'm not mad. Slightly hurt, yes – because you were supposed to protect me. You were supposed to save me. And you didn't. Someone else did," she said, taking a deep breath.

"I thought you were dead… All these years," he whispered. "I thought you and Chuck were dead and I… I regretted it every day."

"Nate…"

"I can't imagine the things you went through…" he continued.

"No. You cant," she said, cutting him short.

"I was depressed for years… Until…Until…" He didn't know how to say it.

She stared at his eyes. They were slightly shiny.

"Are you with someone?" She ventured.

He ducked his head. "Yes."

She thought about this. Yeah. She didn't care. It would be easier, she hoped. It would be easier this way.

"What's her name?" She asked him quietly.

"Vanessa."

Blair nodded. "Do you love her?"

Nate seemed taken aback by her question. "Yes."

"Good for you, Archibald. Treat her right. Don't threat her like you treated me." He looked stunned.

"Blair…"

But his thoughts were interrupted when Chuck walked in, holding a very unhappy Maximus. He came up behind Blair, closing the door behind him and not noticing Nate.

"I think he's got a fever, he refuses to sleep…" And he spotted Nate. "…Without you."

Nate stared at Chuck. Stared at the child. Stared at Blair.

Maximus, however, saw Blair. "Mommy!" He wriggled out of Chuck's limp arms and ran to Blair.

Nate stared at Blair and the boy. Then back at Chuck.

--

To be continued

A/N - Just one more chapter left after this one - I hope you are all enjoying their track back to New York.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11** of _Castaways_

Author: Isabelle

Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl, its characters, or anything.

Summary: Before they kissed, before the night at Victrola, they were going to meet Nate at St. Croix. That is, before their plane crashed, and they were left the only two survivors on an island with no other inhabitants. Chuck/Blair, of course.

Rating: Mostly PG-13, maybe R at one point

A/N – Always thanking my BETA, Tati, because she totally deserves a medal.

----------

"_All brave men love; for he only is brave who has affections to fight for, whether in the daily battle of life, or in physical contests."  
__Nathaniel Hawthorne_

Blair blinked and looked down at Maximus, who was waiting to be picked up. She reached down and pulled him up. She felt his forehead and found he certainly had a fever.

Nate stared at the little boy.

"Who that, mommy?" Maximus asked, staring at Nate.

Blair took a deep breath.

"He does have a fever," she told Chuck.

Nate turned to look at Chuck.

Chuck cleared his throat. "Wow. Awkward."

"You…" Nate stared back at Blair. Then at Chuck. "You son of a bitch," he whispered then launched at him.

Chuck easily grabbed Nate, turned him around, and pinned him against the wall. Nate tried to dislodge him, but to no avail.

"Do you mind _not_ cursing around my kid? He repeats everything!" He snapped and shoved him, letting him go.

Blair cried Chuck's name. "Stop it."

Nate stumbled back, still enraged, and glared at Blair.

"How long, eh? How long before you two just couldn't keep your hands off each other?" He cried.

Maximus looked anxious, and Chuck noticed.

"We've have a _very_ long day," he snapped to Nate. "And my kid's got a fever."

Blair stepped forward and placed her hand on Chuck's arm. "Nate, please… We can talk about this tomorrow."

"I can't believe I felt guilty…" Nate shook his head. "All these years… You two have been _breeding_…"

Blair reeled back, as if slapped, and held Maximus tighter.

Chuck opened the door and held it for him. Nate walked to it and both men held each other's gaze, dangerously close.

"That's my family you're talking about," Chuck hissed in a low and dangerous voice. "And we _never_ set out to hurt you. If I remember correctly – you're the one who never showed."

Nate got on his face. "Yeah. Thanks for taking care of her. You're the best."

And he walked out. Chuck stood there, his jaw twitching, and looked at the floor. Blair stepped to him slowly.

"Chuck?" She whispered. Maximus whimpered in her arms, holding on closer to her.

"You ok?" He asked her.

She nodded. "C'mon. Let's get him to bed."

----------

The bed felt incredibly wrong. Entirely too large and too soft. Maximus lay between them, and they were curled into each other, staring at him as he fitfully went to sleep.

They didn't want to give him medicines. He'd never seen a doctor, and he'd never taken medicine before. He's gotten sick a couple of times on the island and, using the oranges and limes, they had they had toughened up his immune system. That had been it.

They had made him drink two glasses of fresh-squeezed orange juice that Lily had brought to them, and Blair continued pressing his forehead with a cool, wet washcloth.

"Want go home," he kept saying, and Blair continued to look at Chuck worriedly.

Blair leaned forward and pressed her lips to his small forehead.

"Let me wash this," Chuck took the washcloth and rinsed it in the bathroom once more, bringing it back fresh and cool. When he returned, Blair had stripped and Max was laying over her as she softly sang to him. Max's eyes were blinking sleepily. Chuck lowered himself next to her and got as close as he could, using the washcloth himself. On Max's forehead and around his neck.

"Oh, hush thee, my baby, thy sire was a knight, thy mother a lady, both lovely and bright." It was the song she always sang to him to get him to sleep. Because it was the only one she knew – her father used to sing it to her as a little girl. Chuck, of course, knew none and just let her do the singing.

"The woods and the glens, from the towers which we see, they all are belonging, dear baby, to thee," she sang quietly, and Max's eyes slowly began to close as Chuck continued to rub the cool cloth behind his ear.

"He's asleep," Chuck whispered to her, and she sighed in relief. He glanced at the clock. "It's 3:40."

"What does that even mean?" She asked him as he helped her lower Maximus on the bed between them.

"No clue…" Chuck agreed as they covered up the baby.

"I'm sorry about Nate," she whispered to him, and he looked at her dark eyes in the night. They were wide and sad.

"Me too," he replied, swallowing. He hadn't wanted to think about it. He'd known Nathaniel would be upset. He'd just known it. He understood his side. He really did.

---------

When Nate stormed into her apartment, she instantly knew something was wrong. She stood up and stared at him as he went straight to their little refrigerator and took out the milk and started drinking out of the container. She paused, staring at him.

"How did he look?" She asked.

He set it down, placed both hands on the kitchen counter, and pounded once.

She jumped back.

He took a shaky breath.

"They have a kid."

She stood staring at him.

"Nate?" She asked softly.

He turned and she walked to him. He looked genuinely hurt. He looked at her and sighed.

"A kid," he said softly. "They were… stranded in an island… and now they have a kid."

"They were there for three years," she reasoned, leaning next to him. He turned and looked at her.

"He looks just like them…" He whispered.

She looked down and studied her neon pink nail polish. "Do you… Do you still love her?"

He took a sharp breath. "No," he said with certainty.

She nodded.

"It's just… All this time… I had this memory of them and now… Now he's a dad, and she's a mom and they're… They're together and different." He took a deep breath. "You didn't know them before… They're so different."

"Maybe that's what they needed," she reasoned.

He stared at her.

"What if… All the time they were meant to be, and it just took this to get them to finally be with each other?" She continued. "I mean, if I were in a relationship with someone and I didn't love them… Who else to care for that person rather than your best friend?"

"You don't know Chuck," he explained.

"Well… Maybe neither do you," she said and took his hand. He let her. "Maybe it's time you get to know your best friend again."

He stared at her. Her eyes were always clear and ready to give. He nodded slowly and pulled her to him. "You're beautiful, you know."

She smiled into him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "So are you, which worries me."

He laughed, and she kissed him.

"I still don't have the pretty woman complex." She pulled back.

"That's ok. I'm not rich." Her laugh warmed his stomach.

----------

When he woke, he found she was gone. His son was sprawled on top of him, and it was evident that he didn't have a fever anymore. He carefully placed Maximus on the bed, and the little boy rolled over, sighing into the pillow.

He stood and found her in the bathroom. He stopped when he saw her. His heart beat rapidly. She looked up to find him staring.

"My mother," she said by way of explanation.

She was sitting with a skirt, a silk blouse, her hair back to its old chestnut brown curls, her make up done – she looked cleaned and polished and like the girl he saw growing up.

It was at that very moment that, after all these years, he realized that he'd always wanted her. Wanted her when she was with Nathaniel, wanted her as she would sneer at him, when she would plot with him, and when she would walk around with her high moral stick. He'd _always_ wanted her.

In two steps, he grabbed her and kissed her – kissed her fiercely and possessively. Leaving her whimpering into his mouth as she grabbed onto his hair. He pulled back and pressed their foreheads together. She smelled so insatiably good.

She had trouble catching her breath, but she did and stared at him, wide eyed.

"Wow…"

"I've always loved you," he told her, and she flushed pink.

"Bass…" she breathed and kissed him back passionately, pressing herself against him until she had backed him into the wall.

"What this?"

They both freeze as they turn to see their 24 month old staring at them, blinking questioningly. He looks adorable in his large white t-shirt and hair a mess.

Chuck chuckled and kisses her neck. She glared at him, pushing him back and turning to Max.

"Let me check on you," she grabbed Max as he stared at her, confused. She pressed her hand to his forehead. The fever had broken around 5am.

He touched her dark hair and looked at her.

"I changed a little, but it's still me, baby," she assures him as Chuck came up behind them.

"And guess who's getting a haircut?" He teased Maximus.

"No!" Maximus protested, wiggling out of Blair's arms and running to the room. He's about to go after him, but Blair pressed a hand to his chest.

"Donato is downstairs waiting for you," she informed him.

"Now?" He pouted slightly.

She raised a brow. "Go. Come back handsome."

He chuckled and walked out.

Blair busied herself teaching Maximus how to brush his teeth (which was hell on earth), and what socks were. She decided to start with socks. Which he actually liked. Now he was in a white t-shirt and little white socks.

That was all she was pushing him into today.

She took him downstairs and found Bart and Lily with Serena and Eric. The family turned to her.

"Oh, B!" Serena squealed happily. "You look like your old self!"

"Chuck is with Donato now," Blair told them as she set Maximus down, and he walked around the room, studying it. Bart eyed the little boy and stiffened a bit when he touched Bart's pants.

"Pants," he informed Bart Bass, as if the man didn't know. He looked at his own outfit. "No pants."

Eric and Serena found it funny, and Blair apologized.

"It's quite alright," he assured Blair.

"Brunch is ready," he told them, and then Maximus grabbed onto Bart's pants.

"Sing ABC," he demanded.

Blair went forward. "Maximus."

Lily chuckled. "He's more relaxed than yesterday."

Blair picked Max up and nodded. "He'll get used to it."

Lily nodded. "He's still a baby – he won't remember the island."

This made Blair sad as they all sat around the large table and a plate of fruit was offered to her and Maximus. Maximus happily dug in, making nonsense talk with Serena, who continued the conversation as if it made sense. He even fed her a banana.

"Oh! He ate some of my egg!" Serena looked anxiously at Blair.

Blair turned Maximus' face to her. "What did you eat?"

"I'm sure he'll be fine." Lily stated, knowingly.

"Egg." Maximus told her, showing Blair his little tongue to reveal bits of scrambled egg.

Blair breathed. "I'm sure we'll find out if he'll be alright pretty soon."

"It's strange to have a baby around," Lily confessed, but looked pleased. Bart continued staring at Maximus.

Blair took a bite out of her papaya. "Well, he's a handful."

"Oh, he's great," Serena assured her, and Maximus surprised everyone when he let Serena pick him up and place him on her lap.

"You're going to spoil him," Blair reminded her.

"Of course I am," Serena said happily. "Wait until the toys are delivered."

Chuck walked in then, and Blair and Bart stopped. He was once more combed and cleaned, hair cut, dressed in a sharp gray suit. Blair couldn't take her eyes off him. Bart looked pleased.

"Chuck!" Serena exclaimed happily.

"Chuck!" Maximus repeated.

Chuck was taken aback by Maximus on Serena's lap as she fed him grapes.

"Someone feels better this morning," he told Blair, taking a seat next to her.

"Charles," Bart nodded at him. "You look more like yourself."

Chuck stared at his father. "Yes… I admit, it's still strange to have on this much clothing."

Lily nodded sympathetically.

"So, what type of stuff happened in the island?" Eric inquired. The table stared at Blair and Chuck.

"A, b, c, d, e, f, g," Maximus sang softly as he squished the grapes on Serena's plate. He let out a laugh.

"Loads of things," Chuck answered, and Blair reached out and held his hand, squeezing it gently.

Bart cleared his throat.

"Blair, perhaps you would like to come with me and see the apartment Bart has found. I think it would be perfect."

Blair nodded, grateful for the change of subject. That's when the brunch was interrupted.

"Mr. Archibald for you, sir," the butler told Chuck.

Chuck sighed, and Blair looked at him with wide-eyes. Bart looked stiff.

"We are having a family meal." Bart explained.

"It's alright, dad." Chuck stood. "It'll just be a moment."

Chuck's hands were slightly clammy, but he pushed the feeling back as he walked into the waiting room where his friend was sitting.

"Nathaniel," Chuck greeted. Nate turned around slowly.

"Hi," he said and looked at him. "You cleaned up."

Chuck nodded and stuck his hands in his pockets. "It was always me, Nathaniel."

Nate nodded and took a seat. Chuck decided to do the same, and they stared at each other.

"I'm sorry about yesterday… I didn't mean to go off in front of your son," Nate began.

Chuck stared at him and finally nodded. "I'm sorry about the way you found out."

Nate shifted and finally sighed. "Do you love her?"

Chuck was taken aback. He studied his friend. "Always did."

Nate smiled and looked down. "Yeah… You did."

"This is not a game for me, Nathaniel," Chuck assured him.

Chuck's heart felt relieved. He didn't realize he'd been holding onto this horrible chip on his shoulder since he had first kissed Blair – this horrible feeling that he'd ruined his relationship with Nate.

"So… It's Sunday." Nate continued. "The weather's nice… Let's show your kid Central Park. It's not right that he's never seen it."

Chuck smiled and nodded. "He'd like that."

Blair entered that moment, searching for Chuck and Nate stood to greet her.

"Blair," he said and Chuck turned to her.

"Nate. Why don't you join us for brunch?" Blair veered and Chuck looked pleased at her.

Nate looked uncomfortably between the two but before he could answer Maximus trailed in behind Blair, not looking so good and once he reached Blair he promptly puked on the carpet.

"No egg." Maximus said, grimacing.

Blair and Chuck rushed forward. "He had some of Serena's eggs." Blair explained as Chuck picked Maximus up who looked like he felt better now that he had puked.

"When?" Chuck asked.

"Just now." Blair touched Maximus' forehead but he pushed her hand away.

"I ok, mommy," he told her.

Nate starred at them, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Maybe he's allergic to eggs." Nate suggested and all three of hem turned to look at Nate. "I used to be when I was little. I can handle them now."

Chuck looked at Max who was using his new shirt to clean his tongue.

"Well… that breaks the ice, doesn't it?" Chuck stated, pulling Maximus' shirt out of his mouth. "Want to go to the park?"

Maximus' eyes went wide. "Park?"

"Yeah. To play." Chuck told him.

Maximus nodded. "Ok. We go now."

--------

Harold arrived before Lily and Blair made it out the door and, after a fury of tears, she finally introduced him to Maximus.

Maximus had stared up at him doubtfully. Harold had kneeled to study the child.

"Maximus… Now _that's_ a good name," he had told the boy. Max had offered Harold a smell of his blankie. From that moment on, he started his road to spoiled-hood.

Serena bought him about fifty toys. Bart catered to his every need. Harold coddled the child more than Chuck would like, and it took Eleanor only two weeks for her to hug the boy. Blair thought it was an accomplishment. Nate and Serena became the official godparents and that only led to him being spoiled even more rotten.

Their family and friends embraced them very quickly and, before they knew it, they had their own place, and Maximus was wearing clothes without much of a protest. Much.

That's when Chuck decided to drop the bomb.

"I'm buying the island," he told her after another disastrous potty training exercise with Maximus.

She paused and turned to look at him.

"W-what?" She asked, hands on her hips.

"And I'm giving it to you," He continued.

She blinked, staring at him. "What are you talking about?"

He smirked – that same smirk that melted her – but she held her ground. He was talking crazy.

"Come here, kid," he said to the door and in walked Maximus with a little box in his hands. Chuck picked him up and lifted him to Blair's face. Maximus hair was now buzzed short, showing up off its smooth caramel color.

"Ok, say it," Chuck murmured to him. Maximus smiled, as Blair stared at the box in his hands.

"Marry daddy, ok?"

Chuck looked at her behind Maximus' shoulder.

Blair flushed as she looked at the men in her life. Chuck knew the answer already, but it was the way he incorporated their love, in his hands, before her.

"Not bad, Bass," she smiled widely. Blair took the box from Maximus' hands. Maximus leaned forward and gave her a watery kiss. She smiled and opened the box. It was a perfect Tiffany ring.

"What's the island for?" She asked.

"That's where the wedding's going to be," Chuck told her and set Maximus down – the little boy went running back into his toy room.

"I haven't said yes – you're entirely too cocky," she snapped.

"So is that a No?" He asked, coming closer.

"No." She smiled, and he took the box from her, taking the ring out and tossing the box.

"Is that a yes, then?" He asked, taking her hand.

"Perhaps." She smiled as he slipped the ring onto her finger.

"Good enough," he murmured and kissed her. She melted into him, enjoying the feel of him and his cologne around her. Then she pulled back.

"With one condition," she said.

"Done."

She rolled her eyes. "Build me a summer home there. I want our son to always know the island. It's what made him."

Chuck touched her face.

"I like that," he admitted.

"Mommy! Daddy! Look!"

They stopped, paused, and sighed. Interrupted once more. They looked down at Maximus, who had stripped naked.

"Where are you clothes?" She demanded.

"They suck," Max spat. "Look, pee-pee." He pointed at his pecker.

"Hum…" Blair looked at Chuck. "He refuses to be potty trained but he can drop his clothes to show off his penis. Definitely yours."

"Like you mind," Chuck smirked at her, then went to grab Max, but he sped off running and laughing, almost killing Bart who was entering the suite and got a full view of his naked grandson.

--------

The end

-------

Preview for the Next Story:

Title: **In Love & War**

Summary: Post 1.13. Chuck Bass left New York after he lost Blair, and he and Nate fought. Years later, a deep economic crisis has left the world's economy in shambles and the only family in the UES with money left? The Bass family and its sole heir: Chuck Bass. Eleanor convinces Blair to marry Chuck for his money, but all the feelings Blair left buried a long time ago start to surface when she realizes he's not the man she thought he was.

"_It's been some time, Waldorf," he drawled out, dressed impeccably, as always, in his black suit and green bow-tie. _

"_Chuck Bass," she smirked and hoped that he didn't notice the run in her stockings. He did._

"_I heard Nathaniel and yourself reconciled," he purred, scotch in hand and smirk in place. _

"_For a minute," she nodded and turned from him, then cursed because he would be able to see the façade of her outfit. This was one of her last decent outfits. In the crowd they swam in, it didn't matter because everyone was scrapping by and pretending they weren't. But Chuck was different. The Basses had invested in the one item that hadn't plummeted in the stock market crash. Corn. Loads of it. _

_The last wise investment Bart Bass made before he died and left his empire to his only son. But that was years ago. They were twenty-four now, twenty-four and still proud._

"_I'd ask about your mother, but she came to see me," he drawled._

_She froze, feeling a chill up her spine. Her mother wouldn't. Couldn't. Shit, she would. Eleanor was as desperate as ever. With no one buying fashion these days, Eleanor Waldorf's designs were as useless as petroleum. As useless as cars. With her father dead after his money had depleted, they had exactly $298 in the house. Cash. Banks were for rich bastards like the one before her. That money would have to last them as long as it could… Until she could find a job. The money was to be used for such frivolous things such as food and wood for the fireplace. But when Eleanor had learned Chuck Bass was back in the UES, she had seen endless possibilities. Like marrying her daughter off to the last millionaire left. _

"_My mother's not well. I hope you didn't take anything she said seriously," she spat._

"_Still on a high horse," he leered. "Quite an accomplishment for someone with a run in their stockings." His voice was low and poignant. _

_She reeled back and stared at him. "Why are you here? Why are you talking to me? You left, and you didn't even look back to see how your friends were."_

"_If I remember correctly, I didn't have any friends left," he snapped._

"_Your own doing," she countered._

"_No thanks to you," he hissed._

"_How long are you going to blame me?" She asked._

"_How long are you going to pretend you haven't used your once-lovely hands for manual labor?" He stared at her once-manicured hands. _

_Her eyes went wide, and she cursed. She should've worn her mother's gloves. Yes, they had a tear, but at least they would cover her hands. "I hate you. I hate you, your money, and everything you say."_

"_Hate is a powerful emotion." He walked away from her. "I'm sure you'll find me when you need something."_

_Her mother's words were ringing in her ears. 'You were raised to be a princess. He's the only prince left. Marry him. Marry him, Blair.' Her mother was wrong. There had to be another way. She'd rather die than marry Chuck Bass and let him sweep her off to his Scottish estate were he was rumored to live._

**A/N - I wanted to thank everyone who took time out to leave some feedback and those of you who gave the fic a chance even though it was rather outlandish. I'm glad you enjoyed it!! Thank you once more!**


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